A Secret Admirer
by SaltyJak
Summary: It had been going on for months. Every day, she would find a little note in her locker from... Someone. Trouble was, Vicky had no idea WHO this person was in the first place, and the mystery of it all was beginning to annoy her. Oneshot turned quickie-type-thing. Rated T for Vicky's mouth.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Yep, still alive. Anyhoo... Anywho? ...Whatever, this was, as usual, planned as a oneshot, but hey, that never seems to _stay_ as the case, so here's the first chapter to a relatively short fic(I hope). Since it's meant to be short, I figure we'll use each chapter as a sort of scene transition, so this and chapter 2 will go up together, followed by the next two(?) after that. Basically, if you're reading this, I should already be halfway through the third chapter, and if I'm not, feel free to light a metaphorical fire under my lazy ass.

* * *

 _Sniff..._

The red-haired seventeen year old, known by most of Dimmsdale's inhabitants as 'Vicky'; inhaled deeply as she held a small card, not unlike one you'd give to someone on their birthday; up to her nose, flooding her nostrils with an unknown, yet decidedly flowery, scent. "Hnn..."

"'Nother Valentine... For the Valentine?"

"Gah!" Vicky jumped at the voice that suddenly emanated from her left, sending the flowery-smelling card flying into the air, only to reach out for it with near-inhuman speed as it came back down, catching it with both hands before tightly holding it to her chest in a lame attempt to hide it from the voice's owner.

"Tss..." Said voice's owner, a girl about Vicky's age and height, sporting a head of black hair with now-faded green highlights, light skin, blue eyes, and wearing a black t-shirt with similarly colored jeans; giggled in such a way that it sounded more like a low hiss than a noise of amusement, though her slight grin gave her away pretty quickly. "Paranoid much?"

The red-head narrowed her eyes at the all-too perky, self-proclaimed goth. " _No_ , I'm just not used to people sneaking up on me when I'm _thinking_!" Vicky spoke in an annoyed tone through gritted teeth, forgetting for the present moment that her intimidation tactics seemed to just glance off this girl; her _friend_ , Theresa.

"Your _thinking_?" The dark-haired girl crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Vicky in disbelief. "It looks a lot like _smelling_. Your boyfriend leave you another card proclaiming how his love for you burns with the-"

Before she could finish, the pink-eyed girl slapped her hand over Theresa's mouth, driving her intention to silence the girl home with a steely-eyed glare. "He- Or... She- Agh! _Whoever_ this person is! ...Isn't my boyfriend!" Vicky shouted, her voice echoing down the relatively empty hallway of Dimmsdale High School.

Luckily for the teen, her rather infamous reputation was well-known even here, so anyone with half a brain in their skull; be they student or school faculty, knew better than to even _look at_ her funny, nevermind reprimand her for yelling in the halls.

And while her usual abrasive personality kept just about everyone away, Vicky had somehow managed to find the _one_ person who was completely unaffected by her threats, whether because she didn't take her seriously, or that she simply wasn't afraid of her, the red-head wasn't sure, but what she _was_ sure of was that Theresa had her uses. The slightly younger girl was intelligent, if a bit lazy. Sometimes naïve, but she made a good sounding board, and occasionally had a good idea pop into her head when the older red-head had a problem she couldn't figure out on her own.

Taking a small step backward, Theresa freed her mouth from Vicky's hand. "So they're... What? A secret admirer or something?"

"Hmph..." Vicky brought her hand up and pressed it palm-first to her forehead as she leaned backward against her locker. "Or something... I haven't the foggiest idea of who it could be..." She glanced down at the card again, then brought it up to her nose, giving it another quick sniff. "But whoever it is... They're _really_ cliché. I mean, who sprays perfume on letters? _Flowery_ perfume? I don't even _use_ flowery perfume!"

"Or perfume, for that matter." The dark-haired girl deadpanned, joining her friend and leaning her right side up against the row of lockers they stood next to.

"Not the _point_." Vicky spat out in an annoyed tone. "You haven't noticed anyone coming by and sticking these damn things in my locker?"

"Nah, interesting as it would be to stand around watching your locker all day, I much prefer the _thrilling_ pastime of watching paint dry." Theresa remarked sarcastically, earning her another glare from her friend. "Why not just set up some kind of surveillance cam or something? You could probably buy a little cheap one at Wall2Wall-Mart...?"

"No... That wouldn't work. I dunno if whoever's doing this is actually going into my locker, or if they're just slipping the... _Notes_ , in through the little slits in the door. If they have my locker combination, they could just take the camera and erase the footage, then put it back when I wasn't around. If they're slipping them in, then a camera wouldn't help me in the slightest." Vicky hummed in thought as she fell silent again, wondering just _how_ she could figure out who this admirer of hers, was.

Theresa, seeing that her red-haired friend was deep in thought, opted to stay quiet and pass the time by looking at her fingernails, followed soon after by her phone, and eventually just her surroundings, noticing the odd classmate of theirs passing through the halls every now and again. "...So is this a common occurrence for you? Just hanging out-"

 _Riiiinnnngggg!_

The goth flinched at the unexpected sound of the school bell, indicating the end of one of the school's multiple lunch periods. "Hah..." She sighed and shook her head, knowing that, unlike Vicky, there _were_ repercussions for _her_ if she missed classes. "Well, good luck with your boyfriend or whatever, I gotta get to History."

"Mm." Was Vicky's only response as her gaze remained trained on the small scented card in her hand, her brain once again comparing the handwriting to all the ones it could remember, hoping to find some commonality between the note's writer, and anyone's handwriting she'd seen before. _"...Why do I even bother? It's the same handwriting as the last... However many I've gotten! It's only familiar because I've seen it so damn often!"_

"Right... Well, have fun with your mystery, Sherlock. I'll see you at lunch, I guess?" Rather than wait for a response, Theresa turned away and quickly began walking away; her class being on the other side of the school building. "Worst case, you could probably set some kind of trap to catch them, if those stories about that kid you call a Twerp aren't made up." The dark-haired girl called over her shoulder with a shrug, not noticing as Vicky's eyes widened, then quickly narrowed at the idea that popped into her head, the corners of her lips curling up into a devious smile.


	2. Chapter 2

"Um..." Vicky again hummed in thought as she brought her right hand up to her chin, pondering the simple(and hopefully effective) trap she'd set.

After realizing that her locker's secret visitor _must_ have its combination(something she only realized in itself after remembering that some of their little notes had been carefully propped up so as to catch her attention as soon as she opened her locker), the red-head formulated what she felt would be a simple yet effective plan, the first step of which was to tape a sheet of paper on the inside of her locker door to block the little slits in it, keeping whoever was leaving her notes from simply sliding them in.

Next, she set up a rather simple tripwire, tied in such a way so that whenever her locker door was opened, the tripwire would pull the trigger of a net launcher set up on her locker's 'ceiling'. The net launcher itself was little more than a random impulse buy off the internet roughly a week earlier, and the reason it was in her locker, rather than at home, was because she had to babysit Timmy after school today, so who better to test her new toy on than the Twerp? "Well, it should _at least_ catch whoever this is off guard, so..."

Vicky reached into her pocket, producing a small list of directions she'd written down from the owner's manual. "Step one, point at- Yeah, no shit, _me_... Step two, pull trigger." She glanced up at her makeshift trap, eyes falling on the string tightly wrapped around the trigger. "Mm-hm. String should take care of that... And... Step three, 'hold trigger after deploying net to reel in capture'... Ah... So that's how-"

 _Riiiinnnngggg!_

"Hm? What time is it...?" Hearing the school bell ring, Vicky stood up straight, stretching her arms over her head before reaching into her pocket once again, this time to pull out her phone, which indicated the time as 2:30 in the afternoon.

"Yeah, so... You missed lunch."

"What the-!" The red-head jumped in surprise, her fingers reflexively tightening their grip on her phone as she spun around to find Theresa; the dark-haired girl's arms crossed over her chest, and bearing a slightly worried look on her face. "S-Stop sneaking up on me!" Vicky put her hand over her own chest, trying to calm down her now rapidly beating heart.

"And Algebra."

"Well I was-"

" _And_ last period too, I assume?" Theresa quirked an eyebrow up at her friend questioningly, making Vicky narrow her eyes at her in annoyance.

"I. Was. _Busy_. You have _any_ idea how difficult it is to set up a rigged net-gun trap with scavenged materials?" The older teen gestured to her slightly ajar locker door, the trap within just barely visible in the small amount of light filtering in.

"Well..." Theresa adopted a thoughtful pose as she cupped her chin and looked toward the ceiling. "Considering I like to think I have _normal_ hobbies, like video games and painting, rather than building traps and turning my school locker into a cage-slash-trap for someone who's got a crush on me... No, I suppose I don't."

"Well it's a pain in the butt. All I can hope for-" The red-head pushed her locker door closed and shouldered her backpack, having the foresight to take it and everything she needed for school the next day out of her locker before setting her person trap. "-Is that whoever's been leaving notes will do the same thing tonight... Or tomorrow... Eh, whenever it _is_ that they're leaving them."

"So, in order to catch this person, you're willing to potentially leave them locked in the school until you get here tomorrow morning?" Theresa tipped slightly to her left and leaned against the row of lockers, once more quirking her eyebrow up at her determined, if slightly sadistic, friend.

"Yeah." Vicky responded flatly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "According to what I've read, the human body can last a few days without water, and up to a few _weeks_ without food. This would only be about... Eighteen-ish hours, at the max. Nowhere near long enough to put someone's life in any _real_ danger... Until I get my hands on them..."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? ...Better question, should I be worried?" The dark-haired girl pushed herself off the wall of lockers, a curious smirk on her face.

"Hm? No... I'll be fine. Chances are it's just some kid who thinks he's fallen for me or something... Wouldn't put my ex past this either, were it not for the fact that Ricky couldn't _write_ to save his life, nevermind write something sweet and romantic like-" Vicky took pause as her brain caught up with the words simply tumbling out of her mouth, turning her cheeks a light shade of pink.

"Ohh... You're blushing!" Theresa chuckled, staving off the urge to burst out laughing at this _very_ different, and heretofore unknown side of her red-haired friend. "Come to think of it... You've been _pretty_ quick to hide most of the notes he's sent you..."

"We- We don't even _know_ if it's a 'he' in the first place!" Vicky blushed a bit harder at her _friend's_ teasing remark and crossed her arms in a somewhat defiant pose, now able to feel the warmth in her cheeks.

"No, but calling him 'it' or 'them' or... Whoever; it's just silly and tedious. Let's assume for now that he's a 'he', and go from there."

"...Fine." In a rare change of pace, the red-head conceded to Theresa's wishes, though she grumbled out a few more annoyed protests under her breath.

"Okay, so where was I...? Oh! You said he's romantic, right?"

"Pff... Yeah, I guess." Vicky continued to refuse to make eye contact with the goth, opting instead to survey her locker door for any signs that might give away her trap, or look over her shoulder down the hall at her various classmates, some leaving school, some heading to after school-type programs, but _all_ wisely giving the infamous red-head a wide berth. "...Whoever 'he' is, he seems to think I'm 'pretty', and has... Apparently been close enough to me to be able to compare..." Vicky sighed in annoyance, pinching the bridge of her nose in a lame attempt to cover up her blush. "Hah... _Certain_ aspects of my body to things... Mostly my eyes and hair, but my 'beautiful pale skin' too, and there was even one about-" The older teen caught herself and clamped her mouth shut suddenly, her face nearly turning cherry red. "Th-That... Isn't really important. All I know is that he's clearly someone- Well, that I know." She shrugged her shoulders as she finished, her blush beginning to subside.

"Any chance he's just a creepy stalker? Certainly _sounds_ like that's a possibility, doesn't it?"

The red-head looked back at Theresa, feeling confident that her blush was no longer staining her cheeks. "There _is_ that to consider as well, but I already have."

"And?" The dark-haired girl questioned expectantly, shifting from one foot to the other with slight impatience.

"I'm not overly concerned. If he _is_ a creepy stalker, this-" Vicky rapped on her locker door lightly. "Will catch him, and then _I_ will ki- ...Make him disappear." She corrected herself out of habit, due to her predilection for bluntly worded threats.

"Right. Big bad Vicky is oh-so scawy." Theresa mocked in a childish tone, having heard many of her friend's threats before, and finding that said threats were almost invariably empty. "Just be careful if this person _is_ a weirdo, okay?"

"Yeah yeah, I'm touched that you're concerned, but trust me, it isn't necessary." The pink-eyed girl glanced at her fingernails disinterestedly, speaking in a tone that, while it didn't quite _unnerve_ the goth, it _did_ make her feel sorry for whoever ended up being caught by the red-head's trap, stalker or no.

"Er... Okay then..." Theresa adjusted the straps of her own backpack, then tried to shake off the odd feeling her friend's words had brought about. "So... Ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah, we'd better, gotta babysit the Twerp this afternoon, and I'd rather not be late." Vicky jammed her phone back in her right pocket, then produced her car and house keys from the left. "Need a ride?"

"Sure, if you don't mind?" The dark-haired teen followed the older girl with her eyes as she moved toward, then past her, and quickly turned around to fall into step alongside her.

"Nah, your house is on the way there, anyway." With that, the two teens steadily made their way through the halls of Dimmsdale High with little difficulty, as despite the vast sea of their classmates crowding the hallways in an attempt to escape the infernal institution that was their school, few were willing to purposely get in Vicky's way, and so were in turn quick to allow her passage, lest they provoke her ire.

In less than a minute, Theresa and Vicky were in their school's parking lot, their classmates finally escaping the building themselves, seeing that the most feared girl in their school was now a fair distance away from the doors.

"Pretty good perk being your friend: I don't have to wait in line to go _home_." Theresa smiled happily as she pulled open the passenger door of Vicky's red sports car, then got in and closed the it. "But I gotta wonder, why is everyone so afraid of you? You pull a 'Carrie' in middle school or something?"

The red-head got in her car herself, reclining back as she became lost in her imaginings of just _what_ she'd do with something as entertaining as pyrokinesis.

"Uhm... Vicky? You... Oh. You're doing that 'scary' stuff again, where you think about what you'd do if you could set things on fire with your mind." The goth relaxed and buckled her seatbelt, then soon heard the characteristic sound of Vicky putting her key in her car's ignition and starting it. "So do you _like_ people being afraid of you, or do you just not like people in general?"

"Yes, to both." The red-head responded rather simply as she backed her car out of its spot, then quickly drove it out of the school's parking lot. "...Sort of."

"Hm?" Theresa looked over at Vicky, her right eyebrow raised curiously. "Sort of? ...In regards to which one?"

"I don't like _most_ people in general, not necessarily _everyone_."

"Okay...? So who _do_ you like?"

"My family. Tootie can get on my nerves, but she _is_ my little sister... And my parents... Probably aren't too fond of my reputation around Dimmsdale, but _I_ love them, they're my mom and dad." Vicky shrugged as she finished, absently wondering if her parents felt the same.

"Well yeah, of course. Family's important, but... I dunno, anybody else? Maybe a certain... Goth girl that you hang out with at school...?" Theresa asked in a tone that was best described as both playful, yet also hopeful. Half-serious, half-joking.

"Mm... Nope. Not ringing any bells." Vicky responded in an aloof tone, her eyes predominantly fixated on the road ahead, mostly just to see if her words had some effect on her passenger.

"Jeez, you are _committed_ to this act, aren't ya? You _really_ can't drop the evil babysitter who has no friends act even once you're out of school?" Theresa questioned in a disbelieving tone, her eyes checking the passing scenery to see how close they were to her neighborhood.

"Act? Who's acting? Ask any of the kids I babysit, and I'm sure they'll be more than willing to tell you how evil I am, unless you mention that we're friends; _then_ they'll probably keep their mouths shut, thinking that you're gonna rat them out to me." Vicky slowed down as the car came to a stop sign, then lightly drummed her fingers against the steering wheel when she did stop, before finally continuing on.

"Ah! You just said I'm your friend!" The dark-haired girl remarked victoriously, giving a small fist pump at having caught the red-head's admission.

"I'd say you're more of a minion, all things considered, but yeah... I suppose we're friends." Vicky rolled her eyes as she spoke in a somewhat annoyed tone, though a keen eye could notice the corners of her lips tugging upward to form a small smile. "...Anyway, I'm not _acting_ evil, it's just the way I am. And it has its perks, as you've seen."

"Only because people are afraid you'll burn their house down, or hire a biker gang to chase them down on the highway and humiliate them in some way. _That's_ how you can get all A's without having to actually _be_ in class." Theresa finished in a wistful tone, mentally wishing that some of that fear of Vicky would pass to _her_. Being in class was such a drag.

"Who says I won't do that?" The red-head glanced over at her friend as the car again came to a stop, this time right in front of Theresa's house.

"I do." The younger teen replied confidently. "If you really were evil, you and I wouldn't be friends, for one. Second, you admitted to caring about your family-"

"Even evil has loved ones." Vicky chimed in, sticking up her right index finger to make a point.

" _Third_ , and most damning, you're interested in figuring out who this admirer of yours is. If you're so evil, why do you wanna know so bad? Why blush at the things he's written? Why pay him any mind at all?" Theresa challenged, hoping to get just one more scrap of visual proof that her normally abrasive friend wasn't so above it all.

" _Or_ , I just wanna figure out who he is so I can get him to stop leaving notes in my locker." The older teen shrugged, a barely-there blush evident on her cheeks. "...On the other hand, if he _does_ end up being cute... I'm not above giving him-or her-a shot. It _has_ been kinda boring being single..."

"And that's one _more_ reason you're not as evil as you say." The dark-haired girl teased as she opened the door and hopped out of Vicky's car, shutting it behind her before leaning down to look through the open window. "Speaking of..."

"Yeah?" Vicky raised an eyebrow at her friend curiously, her foot pausing mere centimeters from stomping on the accelerator.

"If this... Whoever he is, ends up being cute, but not your type..." Theresa rolled her eyes evasively, not quite making eye contact with her red-haired friend. "How 'bout sending him my way?"

Vicky chuckled and shook her head. "If his notes are anything to go by, you might need to dye your hair red and get some pink contact lenses. Sure you're up for that?"

"Uh... Yeah, no. Wouldn't it be kind of weird to have a friend who's always hanging around you, trying to _be_ like you in every way? That's middle school stuff, and it gets old fast. This girl I know online, Ver-"

"Fascinating." Vicky interrupted and revved her car's engine. "I gotta go, T. Text me later or..." The red-head sighed, letting her tough exterior down by the slightest amount. "...Call, I guess, since we're _friends_." She nearly gagged the word out, eliciting a small giggle form her dark-haired friend.

"Oh my, it must be a full moon tonight, if you're willing to say that I'm your friend so many times in one day!" Theresa exclaimed happily, pulling away just before the red-head sped off, a light pink tint clearly visible on her cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: And here's another chapter, somewhat longer than intended. Fair warning, minor fourth wall breaking ahead. Thanks for reading and reviewing so far! **:D**

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"Ugh! And people wonder why I hate being _nice_!" Vicky crossed her arms over her chest and pouted in her car, now parked in the driveway of the Turner residence. "She's just lucky I need her around so I can bounce ideas off her when it comes to..." Reaching into one of her backpack's side pockets, the eighteen year old pulled out the small flowery-scented note she'd found in her locker and gave it another quick sniff. "...Why _flowers_? I don't _know_ anything about flowers!"

After another moment, the red-head unfolded the small note; looking over the handwriting once again as she read it to herself. "'Vicky, I know a lot of people think you're Icky, and that you aren't always nice, but if I had to spend time with anyone, I'd ask it be you, twice'... Really? You _had_ to make it rhyme?" An odd feeling swept over her, as she both cringed at the cheesiness of the little poem, yet smirked at how sweet the message was. "Oh god, I'm turning into the love interest in a cheesy romance story..." She whined out somewhat pathetically, butting her head against her car's steering wheel.

 _Honk!_

"Son of a-!" Vicky sat bolt upright in her seat as she unintentionally honked her car's horn, scaring herself half to death in the process. _"Crap, I need to calm down. First Theresa surprises me at school, now I'm nearly giving_ myself _a heart attack?"_ Shaking her head and dispelling her surprise, the red-head opened her car door and hopped out, grabbing her backpack by one of its straps as she did.

Promptly stepping over to the Turners' front door, she first tried the knob, only to find the door locked, whereupon she fished the spare key Timmy's parents had given her out of her pocket and unlocked the door, then let herself in. "Figures they'd already be gone..." Vicky took a moment to glance around the living room, instantly recognizing a certain... Emptiness about Timmy's house. It didn't take her long to realize that, not only were Timmy's parents not home(something she would've recognized by the absence of their car, had she not been more preoccupied with her own thoughts), but the somewhat small, brunet-haired boy she referred to as 'the Twerp' didn't appear to be home either.

"Eh... He gets out of school a little after I do... He'll probably be here in a few..." Shrugging indifferently, the red-head tossed her backpack onto the recliner chair, then unceremoniously flopped down onto her back on the couch, her left arm folded behind her head to act as a makeshift pillow, while her right again fished the small note from her locker back out of her pocket, the flowery scent filling her nostrils once more. "What are those flowers called? Lilacs? ...No, something..."

 _Click_

Vicky's pink eyes lazily drifted from the paper in her hand over to the front door as she heard the knob begin to turn, followed by the door itself being pushed open. She opened her mouth to speak, only to hear the distinct sound of _two_ mildly annoying, squeaky voices, rather than just the _one_ she expected. While this did momentarily catch the babysitter off guard, she immediately recognized both voices, and turned her gaze back toward her admirer's little note.

"-No, what we _should_ do is... Hm? Oh, hi Sis!" Tootie, hair done up in its characteristic pigtails style and wearing her usual ensemble of a black button-up vest over a white dress shirt, along with her boring gray plaid skirt; exclaimed happily as her eyes fell on her older sister, the usual animosity between them long having become a thing of the past.

"Toots." Vicky briefly ended her staring contest with the card in her hand to look over at Tootie, and of course, the brunet standing next to her. "Twerp."

Timmy, unsurprisingly dressed in his usual attire; flinched almost imperceptibly at his babysitter's acknowledgment of his presence, and offered her a small, tentative wave. "Um... Hey, Vicky."

The red-head quirked an eyebrow up at the buck-toothed boy curiously, then scoffed and rolled her eyes to instead focus her gaze on her younger sister. _"Jeez, even though I've given him a break since him and Tootie started being... 'just friends', he_ still _acts like I'm gonna greet him with a chainsaw or something..."_ "...So, having trouble deciding on the venue?"

"The... What?" Timmy asked in bewilderment, quickly glancing over at Tootie to see if she knew what the older teen was talking about, though her only response was to shoot him a flat look and shake her head no, as if to say 'Don't encourage her'.

"For your wedding. It _is_ still on, right?" Vicky smirked evilly as Tootie facepalmed, and Timmy shot her a flat look of his own, realizing his babysitter was merely teasing him and his bespectacled friend about their nonexistent relationship.

"Yes, despite everything me and Timmy say to the contrary, we can't _help_ but gush on and on about our wedding day. You hit the nail on the head, Vicky." Tootie remarked sarcastically, a clear hint of annoyance in her tone. "Ugh... We were talking about a school project. Mister Crocker-"

The red-head let out a loud yawn, interrupting the younger Valentine girl as she gently placed the note in her hand down on the table in front of the couch, then closed her eyes and reclined back, folding both arms behind her head.

Feeling an odd little twitch in one of the veins in her forehead, Tootie opened her mouth to slowly begin speaking again. "...Mister Crocker has us working in pairs on a project-"

"Yawn." Vicky again interrupted her sister, peeking one eye open to look at her. "I said 'yawn' because you apparently didn't realize the first, _real_ yawn was meant to show that you're boring me, and that I don't care about your school project."

The raven-haired girl growled in frustration, only to huff air out of her nose with a low whooshing sound. "I don't know _how_ Theresa can stand to be around you sometimes..."

"It's my charming personality." Vicky smiled to herself and shrugged, then closed her eye and stretched herself out on the couch. "Your parents didn't leave a note about chores today, Twerp..." She turned over to face the back of the couch, just happy to be able to relax after her arduous day of school and trap-building. "And _I_... Can't really think of anything for you to do, so... I guess you've got the day off."

Timmy glanced over at Tootie cautiously, then over to his babysitter, his eyes falling upon her back. "There's no... Catch? Or anything? Just... No chores?"

"No chores. Just try not to spend too much time making out with my sister, so you two can get that project done." Vicky chuckled over her shoulder teasingly, imagining the bright red blushes that she assumed stained Timmy and Tootie's faces.

"Hilarious." Tootie deadpanned in a flat and unimpressed tone, then made her way over to the stairs and up them, a slight stomp in her step. "I swear, you pine after _one_ guy for two and a half years, and people _never_ let you live it down..."

Upon hearing Timmy's bedroom door open, Vicky turned back over to face the TV, assuming she was alone in the living room. "Heehee! If you two weren't so easy to..." She trailed off as she soon realized she was definitely _not_ alone; her striking pink eyes falling on the buck-toothed boy she _thought_ had gone upstairs with her younger sister. "Tease...?"

Timmy, now standing on the opposite side of the table from her, leaned forward a bit, his curious blue eyes locked on the small floral-smelling note she'd left on it. "What's tha-" He extended his left arm and reached for the small slip of paper, only for the red-head to quickly snatch it away, her arm darting out like a striking snake.

"What are you still doing here?" Vicky asked in an accusing tone, glaring daggers at the young boy in front of her.

"Well... I mean, I _do_ live here..." The brunet stood up straight, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"That- I didn't mean... I thought you went upstairs with Tootie?" Vicky hesitantly let down her guard a little, laying the note from her locker down on the couch, in front of her stomach.

"I _was_ , but... I saw you looking at that little piece of paper, so..." Timmy shifted his weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably, then absently fingered the strap of his backpack. "Can I... Ask you what it is? It kinda smells like lavender..."

"It's nothing." The seventeen year old shook her head back and forth, breaking eye contact with her charge. "Just a stupid-" Vicky suddenly paused, her mind coming to a screeching halt. "Wait... Lavender? _That's_ what this flowery smell is? It's lavender?" She picked the note back up, giving it another whiff as she turned it over in her hand and looked at it.

"Well... May... Be? If you'd let me see it real quick..." Timmy offered, his voice soft and hopeful. "My um... My grandma was a florist before she retired, but she has a garden with all sorts of flowers at her house. There isn't... Much to do there most of the time, so when I was younger and went to visit, she'd teach me about the flowers she grows." He scratched at his nose nervously, a slight blush becoming visible on his cheeks. "I... Got pretty good at recognizing the flowers by how they smelled..."

Vicky quirked an eyebrow up at Timmy curiously while still keeping a firm grip on her admirer's note. Admittedly, she knew next to nothing about the boy's family, aside from his parents, so as far as she knew, Timmy very well _could_ have an ex-florist grandmother that taught him about flowers. _"Not to mention, why would he lie about something like that? I could just as easily tease him for yet_ another _girly thing his family has him do..."_ "Hah..." She sighed, knowing she could use all the help she could get in figuring out who her secret admirer was. "Fine... But no reading the note, got it Twerp?" Vicky leaned forward a little, reaching her arm across the table to hand the slip of paper to Timmy.

"I won't." The brunet took the offered note, making sure to keep it folded closed as he held it up to his nose and inhaled deeply; while at the same time trying to ignore the watchful eye of his babysitter, her gaze focused on him intently, and clearly not quite trusting him at his word. "Hm... Yeah, that's definitely lavender. I think it's usually used to calm people down when they're stressed, something about the scent-"

"I didn't ask for a lesson on the applications of a _flower_ , Twerp." Vicky snatched the note away, placing it back down on the couch in front of her stomach, with her hand over it, making her look not unlike a lion guarding its prize from those who might try to steal it.

"Er... Alright then. Just thought you might want to know what it's used for..." Timmy looked around the living room, doing his best to avoid making eye contact with his babysitter while simultaneously trying to work up the nerve to speak again, and ask her about the note.

"...You're easy to read." The older girl blurted out, unintentionally turning her inner thought into an outer one.

"I... Am?" Timmy shot back, his boyish features marred by confusion.

"Right now you are, anyway..." She responded wistfully, remembering the days back when she'd never even _think_ of asking her Twerp for help. " _Someone_... Has been leaving me notes... In my locker."

"...Notes...?" Again, the brunet asked, this time lingering just a bit on his pronunciation of the 'N' in the word 'notes'.

Vicky felt a slight warmth rise to her cheeks, making her turn away from the brunet and onto her back, her face trained toward the living room's ceiling. "Like... Agh, y'know... _Love_ notes? Little romantic things like poems or compliments, observations he... Or _she_ , still not totally sure; has made about... Me." She spoke in a low, halting tone that sounded alien and strange, even to her own ears, unaccustomed as she was to confiding in someone in the first place, let alone someone like _Timmy_.

"Well that's... I mean, are they bad or something? The... Poetry and... What? Observations, you said? You don't like them...?" The buck-toothed boy shrugged, wondering why Vicky, of all people, was having such a-what seemed to be-crisis, over something as simple as someone having a crush on her. Even _he_ had an easier time dealing with Tootie, and she was _far_ more upfront with her affections, going so far as to kidnap him! _"On more than one occasion..."_ He thought to himself, cringing slightly at the memory.

"No, it's not- I- ...Argh! This is so...!" Vicky crossed her arms over her chest, quickly having grown annoyed with herself due to her admirer's little notes turning her into something she hated: A swooning teenager who couldn't keep from blushing at the mere _thought_ of the aforementioned notes! "It's just so... Frustrating." She at last admitted with a weary sigh. "At first, I just kinda figured if I ignored them, he-and we'll just assume it _is_ a he-would take the hint and stop leaving the notes, but..."

Timmy stared at his babysitter expectantly after she trailed off, worried that if he tried to speak, he'd interrupt her, which he in turn imagined would make her clam up and not divulge any further details on what she thought of the notes. "...But?"

"...If you _ever_ repeat what you're about to hear, I will not only deny it, I'll quit being your babysitter, and tell your parents to enroll you full time at the Learnatorium, get me?" The red-head spoke with a venomous edge in her tone, and while she obviously wasn't serious; knew _Timmy_ didn't know that, and would rather deal with her than spend even one more minute at the Dimmsdale Learnatorium.

"I-! I won't! Promise! Whatever you say won't leave this room!" Timmy barely stopped himself from dropping to his knees, ready to beg his(some might say evil)babysitter to _stay_ as his babysitter.

Grinning at the pleading look in her charge's eyes, Vicky couldn't help but feel a little touched that he'd choose her over the Learnatorium, even if it _was_ just because her being around was a case of the devil he knew. "Aw... Twerp? I didn't know you cared!"

Timmy rolled his eyes at his babysitter's mildly condescending tone, silently hoping she wouldn't notice the barely-there pink tinge to his cheeks. "Can't you _ever_ just... _Talk_ to someone nicely? No teasing or... Threats to blackmail them?" He remarked in a somber tone; lips pouting a bit as he avoided meeting her gaze again.

The red-head let out a huff at the boy's almost sad-sounding tone, realizing she was probably partially to blame for him not understanding that she was simply kidding around. _"Try to be_ nice _she says... Does Tootie even_ realize _how terrified her boyfriend is of me?"_ "...So anyway, where was-? Right. Um..." Vicky trailed off once more, though her words seemed to make Timmy perk up a little, his interested gaze meeting hers again. "I guess I'm just not used to someone... Really being interested in me. Ricky-You... remember him, right?"

Timmy nodded in the affirmative. How could he forget someone who was essentially a male clone of Vicky that he himself had wished up, only to find out that the greasy teenager was somehow _so_ much worse than the girl he thought was the definition of evil?

"Well he was... Direct, I guess? Ricky just showed up and we were pretty much dating from there. I never gave it much thought because... I dunno, I was younger and... Probably dumber then. Ricky was the first person who actually _liked_ me, or so I thought, and I just... Went along with it." The older girl took a moment to catch her breath, surprised to find herself feeling... Somehow lighter; a weight she hadn't known was there feeling like it was finally lifted off her chest. "But I- ...Don't really want to drudge up the past, so..."

"The notes this guy- _Person_ , has been leaving in your locker?" Timmy offered, quite happy to leave the topic of Ricky behind.

"Hah..." Another sigh breezed past Vicky's lips, her brain holding some small, unrealistic hope that Timmy had forgotten their conversation already. "The early ones were just- They weren't anything special, just notes that I figured were written by someone who noticed me in the halls or something, but... As I got more and more, one showing up in my locker every day, I kinda... Started getting this warm feeling when I read them, part of me actually looks _forward_ to getting them now, and..." The blush on her cheeks steadily turned from a light pink, to something a little darker, and by now had progressed to a light shade of red. "...Y'know when they talk about this-oh god, I can't believe I'm about to say this-warm, fuzzy feeling when someone likes you?"

"I... I guess so, yeah...?" The brunet nodded, having become somewhat intimate himself with the feeling his babysitter was describing.

" _Yeah_." She parroted back seriously, hoping Timmy was smart enough to understand her without needing her to elaborate further.

"Yeah wha- ...Oh." Timmy's eyes widened a little, finally understanding what the older girl was not so subtly implying. "So... You think you might like-"

"I don't know!" Vicky whined out as she covered her face with both hands, making her voice come out muffled. "I just wish I knew who it was! I know it's someone... That I _know_ , the notes have made that pretty clear, but... Shit, I'm in _high school_! It could literally be _anyone_ I go to school with!"

"But... I thought you said everyone you go to school with is afraid of you? Who there would be crazy enough to... Um... Not that someone would... Have to be crazy to... Eheh..." Timmy tapped his index fingers together nervously, suddenly becoming aware that he'd just stepped onto some _very_ thin ice, figuratively speaking.

"Yeah, I know I'm _quite_ the prize, Twerp. That's _why_ I'm having such a hard time figuring this out! ...Grr! I'm gonna knock this guy's lights out for playing games with me like this, even if he _is_ romantic!" The red-head sat up angrily, then swung her legs off the couch, crossing one over the other.

Timmy visibly shrank back at his babysitter's tone and body language, his eyes quickly darting over to the stairs leading to the second floor and the relative safety of his room. "Don't you... Isn't that a _little_ excessive? If he's been going through the trouble to leave notes in your locker for the past five months... It seems like he must like you a lot, so why... Y'know, hurt someone who likes you?"

Vicky shook her head back and forth, barely hiding the grin brought out by Timmy's cute naivete. "Well I'm not _serious_ , Twerp. I'm trying to vent, that's all." She scooped the note back up, then unfolded it to read the message again, only to take pause and lower the piece of paper as it occurred to her that Timmy had said something... A little unusual. "How... Do you know I've been getting notes in my locker for the past five months?"

The younger of the living room's two occupants felt a surge of adrenaline rush through his body in the form of a mildly oppressive wave of heat, causing him to begin sweating slightly. "You um... Y-You mentioned it just a couple m-minutes ago, r-remember?" He lied as his eyes again darted over to the stairs, then back to the older girl in front of him, though Timmy knew deep down that Vicky could outrun him any day of the week, if she really wanted to.

The red-head took a few moments to study the brunet, then followed his gaze to the stairs, before quickly falling back on her; nervous blue orbs meeting(admittedly confused) pink ones. For a brief, fleeting second, her thoughts shifted to the note from her admirer in her hand. _"I_ do _spend a lot of time here, around Timmy... And obviously he'd have plenty of time to notice things about me that were mentioned in the notes..."_

"Er... V-Vicky? Everything- Um... Alright?" Timmy fidgeted nervously, his babysitter's seemingly scrutinizing glare making his blood run cold. He'd honestly rather face down an army of Jorgen Von Strangles than spend another moment in this awkward, pensive silence!

Hearing her young charge's voice, Vicky snapped out of her reverie and rapidly shook her head back and forth. _"No way. The Twerp's like, what? Eleven? And writing romantic stuff like that with a 'C' average on his report card? I_ must _be losing it to think it's him."_ "N-Nothing, Timmy. Just got lost in thought for a sec. But um... Yeah, my 'secret admirer', as my fff-... _friend_ calls him, has been leaving notes in my locker for right around five months now... Sorry, guess I forgot I told you that."

"O-Oh! Ah... No, um... No problem!" Timmy shot the older girl a small smile, a feeling of immense relief sweeping though his small form. "So... Was there-Uh... Anything else you needed? More flowery-smelling notes, or...?" Though the feeling of his heart slamming against his ribs was beginning to subside, Timmy still felt a little uneasy around the older girl, something she was sure to pick up on soon, if she hadn't already.

"Hnh..." Vicky roughly scratched at her scalp, trying in vain to will her mind into remembering if there was, in fact, anything else she needed from the inexplicably nervous brunet. "There _are_... But they're in my room. Been hanging onto them for evidence, hoping... I dunno, that they might somehow lead me to whoever their writer is." She leaned back against the couch, lightly bumping her head on the hard back of it. "...Nah, I guess I'm all set for now. You'd better get up to your room with Toots, before she starts to worry that I... Tied you to the ceiling fan and put it at its highest setting or something..."

"Er... Right, the project." Timmy nodded, then quickly made for the stairs, nearly slipping as he gripped the railing with his sweaty hand.

"And hey..." Vicky called out, turning her head to face Timmy while still letting it rest on the back of the couch.

"Y-Yeah?" The brunet-haired boy stumbled on the stairs, crouching down on them to look at his babysitter from between the bannisters.

"Thanks." The red-head shot Timmy a little smirk, earning her a quizzical look in response. "For listening." She clarified after a few more tense seconds, gesturing toward the note, now back on the table; with her right hand.

"Ahm... Alright, yeah... Any... Anytime, Vicky?" Timmy offered, being so unfamiliar with receiving gratitude from the older girl that his words came out sounding more like a question than an actual statement.

"...Go, before we get all mushy." Vicky deadpanned at him, though her smirk grew marginally wider.

Rather than respond, Timmy simply nodded, offering a small smile of his own as he felt a light, fluttery feeling in his chest. It wasn't often that he got to see his babysitter crack a genuine smile, and even _more_ rare was it for said smile to be directed at _him_!

Quickly coming to the realization that he'd already spent a good thirty seconds staring at his so-called 'evil' babysitter, Timmy climbed the rest of the way up the stairs, disappearing out of sight of the red-head.

"Ah... Dammit he's cute sometimes..." Vicky chuckled to herself as she reached for the TV remote. "Still can't believe Tootie's settling for 'just friends' now... If _I_ were in her shoes, I'd have locked that little Twerp down as soon as I met him!"

 _Bzzt!_

"Here we go..." Vicky rolled her eyes as her phone buzzed, letting her know someone was texting her. Fishing it out of her pocket, she let out a fatigued groan at the name on the screen. "Theresa. Aren't there _other_ people you can bother and... Be perky at?!" She rapidly typed a 'yeah' into her phone's keyboard, not even bothering with a question mark.

 _Bzzt!_

"'Still babysitting Timmy?'" She read the text aloud, mostly so the author didn't have to devise a way to distinguish text-talk from regular dialogue. Another 'yeah' was soon typed into her phone, and sent off to Theresa's.

 _Bzzt!_

"Gr...!" She growled though clenched teeth. If Theresa wanted to know what she was doing so bad, why didn't she just come with her in the first place?! _"Ugh, scratch that, I get enough of that girl at_ school _..."_ "Say hi to Timmy for you?" Vicky again began typing away at her phone. "Why?" She read her text as she sent it, feeling somewhat confused at her friend's impromptu interest in her charge.

 _Bzzt!_

Instantly opening her new text, Vicky shook her head once she'd read the words. "'Because you said he's cute'." While the thought briefly occurred to the red-head that her goth friend might have psychic powers, she wisely shrugged the timing of the text off as a coincidence, before sending a reply. "No. My Twerp. Get your own." She grinned to herself as she hit send, then promptly turned off her phone; argument(if it could even be called that) won, as far as she was concerned.


	4. Chapter 4

Vicky awoke with a start, her eyes shooting wide open and being met with an action scene her sleep-addled mind didn't quite recognize on the TV. She twisted from lying on her side onto her back, then stretched her arms up over her head and her legs over to the end of the couch with a yawn; her joints making little cracks and pops. "Nnh... Must've been more tired than I thought..."

She reached for her phone, still laying on the coffee table where she'd left it, and picked it up, then turned it back on to check the time. "...Crap... It's already _nine_?" Vicky groaned loudly, annoyed that she'd wasted pretty much the whole day at school, then sleeping at Timmy's house. After checking the texts left by Theresa, which amounted to little more than her friend questioning where she could get her own Twerp, followed by the goth wondering why Vicky wasn't responding; the red-head stood up from the couch, just in time to hear a familiar 'click' from the front door as it was unlocked.

"Timmy, Vicky! We're home!" The ever-enthusiastic voice of Timmy's mother filled the living room as she and Mr. Turner stepped into their home, shutting the door behind them. "Everything go okay while we were out? Our little angel behave himself for you?"

"...Yyyes?" Vicky, still in that odd state of mind between wakefulness and unconsciousness; spoke in an almost questioning tone, not even having the presence of mind to equip the sweet-talking facade she was so known for. _"He and Tootie better not have done anything stupid while I was out..."_

As if on cue, Timmy and Tootie came down the stairs together, looking a bit more tired than when Vicky had last seen them, but otherwise fine, making the older teen mentally sigh in relief. "You're home early?" The brunet asked, not expecting his parents to be back until eleven at night at the earliest, knowing them and their 'business meetings'.

"Well, it turns out the spa we were at-" Timmy's dad began, only to receive a swift elbow to the gut from his wife.

"Our- Um! Meeting got out a bit earlier than usual!" The boy's mother exclaimed with nervous excitement, evidently hoping her only child was still too dense to question the little slip by his father. "I- Er... Didn't know you had to keep an eye on your little sister as well, Vicky. You should have said something!" Mrs. Turner remarked in a surprised tone, likely just trying to evade the subject of just _where_ she and her husband had _actually_ been all day.

"It's no big deal. Her and Timmy were just working together on a school project, so they were both perfectly well-behaved!" Vicky smiled sweetly, playing up her loving babysitter act just a bit.

"Well, either way, I think you deserve a little bonus for keeping an eye on Timmy when you already had to watch your sister, so here!" Timmy's mother produced a fat wad of cash from her purse and handed it to the red-head, who was quite happy to take it before the woman came to the senses she probably didn't even have.

"Aw... Thanks! That's why you guys are my favorite clients, and why Timmy's my favorite little angel!" _"This is just_ too _easy at times..."_ Vicky shot Timmy a smile as she pocketed her fee, just barely noticing the slight blush on his cheeks before he looked down toward his feet to hide it.

"Oh god, please stop Sis. My pancreas can only take so much..." Tootie spoke in a sarcastic tone, pinching the bridge of her nose, and eliciting a soft chuckle from the brunet to her left.

"Ah... We'd better get going, Tootie can get _awfully_ grumpy when she's hungry..." Vicky walked by Timmy's parents as they allowed her to pass, her raven-haired sister falling into step behind her as both made for the front door.

"Oh, Vicky? You're still coming over to watch Timmy tomorrow, right?" Mrs. Turner asked, causing the red-head to spin back around to face her.

" _You mean like I do_ every _day?"_ She thought to herself, and was very tempted to say, but managed to hold her tongue, her sugary facade still holding strong. "Of course! I'll be right over as soon as I get out of school!"

"Wonderful! Thank you again, Vicky. We really appreciate it!" The brunet-haired woman beamed at the girl she practically treated like the daughter she never had, a wide smile on her face.

"No problem, Mrs. Turner! You three have a nice night!" The pink-eyed girl exclaimed happily as she made her way out the door with her little sister in tow, and both quickly strode over to Vicky's car and got in. "I dunno if it's all the 'meetings' they go to, or if she's just on some really good meds, but Timmy's mom is _way_ too cheery for me..." She deadpanned as she reclined back in her car's driver's seat, glad she could finally stop acting so bubbly, as it even got on _her_ nerves lately.

"Why would the meetings Timmy's mom and dad go to make her so happy?" Tootie queried curiously as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Because they're obviously just _saying_ they're going to business meetings and timeshare things while _actually_ going to hotels and spas to-" The older teen caught herself at the last second, instantly clamming up as she remembered who she was talking to, and a blush similar to the one that appeared on Timmy's face bloomed on her own. "Y-You'll understand when... You're older."

"Do _you_ actually know? Or are you just saying that thing that adults say so they don't have to have awkward conversations with their kids-or in this case-little sisters?" The bespectacled girl quirked an eyebrow up at her older sister challengingly, the corners of her lips curling up into a confident smirk.

"Yes." Vicky responded flatly, leaving it at that as she started her car and reversed out of the Turners' driveway, beginning the short drive back to her and Tootie's house.

 _A few minutes later..._

Vicky flopped down onto her bed with a low 'oof', bouncing slightly as she splayed her arms out on either side of her; pink eyes listlessly staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom. "Wish I'd brought the rest of the notes with me now..." Her gaze drifted over to her dresser, a small pile of roughly a hundred notes, all from her mystery admirer, all smelling like flowers; sitting atop it. A few of the little slips of paper shared the same scent, but even so, that left her little to go on. All it really meant was that whoever was sending them probably didn't have over a hundred different perfumes to choose from.

"Humph..." The red-head pushed herself up from her bed into a standing position, then quietly moved across her room to the dresser in question, her bedroom's carpeted floor muffling the already low noise made by her bare footsteps. "With any luck, tomorrow will be the big day..." She rifled through the small, disorganized pile, absently knocking a few of the notes to the floor. "Poetry, flowers, and compliments about how I look... Argh... That doesn't _tell_ me anything!" The teen whispered out harshly as she angrily withdrew her hand from the pile, sending a few more fluttering off her dresser as she spun around to face her bed again.

"...What am I even supposed to do if he _does_ fall for the trap?" She threw her arms up in a somewhat dramatic shrug, evidently hoping some unseen presence would answer back. "Rrgh...! Think! Who could it be?!" Vicky angrily ran her hand through her fiery hair, trying once more to will her brain into giving her answers she simply didn't have. "Tch, least I'm the only one who's still up, don't have to deal with mom, dad, or Tootie asking me why I'm talking to myself like a nutjob..."

With a final, heavy sigh of resignation, the red-head returned to her bed and got comfortable, then turned on her laptop, knowing that thanks to her little nap at Timmy's house; it would likely be a while before she could get to sleep.

 _The next morning..._

 _Tap!_

"Nnh..." Vicky turned over in bed, wrapping the covers more tightly around herself as she faced the wall.

 _Tap-Tap!_

"That better be a bird at my window..." She muttered out sleepily, pulling her comforter over her head.

"Hey sleepyhead!" A familiar, perky-sounding voice, slightly muffled due to the red-head's bedroom window being shut, called up from the front yard of Vicky's house, making the teen grit her teeth in annoyance.

 _Tap!_

"Grr...!" Vicky growled out, sounding more like a feral animal waking up early from hibernation than a seventeen year old who didn't get her extra fifteen minutes of beauty sleep. Throwing the covers off herself and hopping out of bed, she stomped over to her window and lifted it open, exerting enough force to slam it against the top part of the window frame. "Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?! The Hell-"

"Seven-thirty." Theresa remarked with a cheeky grin, holding her phone up so the screen faced her angry, red-haired friend.

Vicky clenched her jaw angrily, her eyes glaring daggers at the goth on her front lawn, dressed in torn black jeans and a matching tank-top. She opened her mouth, ready to release a volley of insults that would make the saltiest of sailors blush, but caught herself at the last second, nearly biting her tongue. _"Just breathe. This is no way to start a Friday morning..."_ She counted from one to five in her head as she inhaled though her nose, then counted again, blowing the air out through her mouth.

"Aha! See? I told you you'd appreciate me teaching you those deep breathing exercises-Ah!" The dark-haired girl cried out as a set of keys collided with her shoulder and dropped into the grass, still damp with morning dew. "What was that-"

"So you can come in, seeing as how you're so dead-set on being a pain in my ass." The older teen shook her head as she leaned out the window, a small smirk barely evident on her lips.

"No, I meant why did you-" Theresa asked as she knelt down to pick up what looked to be Vicky's house and car keys.

 _Slam!_

Vicky slid the window back down, closing it with a bit more force than she intended. "Honestly, don't you have _other_ friends?" She shook her head once again and shrugged, doing her best to cover up the fact that she was actually pleasantly surprised by Theresa's impromptu visit. "Guess I'd better get dressed and head downstairs..."

Grabbing a fresh change of clothes, the red-head quickly exited her room and went into the bathroom, sighing with relief as she turned on the shower to find that the water was still quite hot, meaning her parents had either already left for the day a while ago, or hadn't even gotten up yet.

"Hm..." Vicky hummed in thought as she stripped off her clothes from the night before and stepped into the shower. "What is she _doing_ here anyway? She usually only comes over _after_ school, and she's always complaining about not getting enough sleep, so why...?" Figuring she'd find out the reason for Theresa's visit soon enough, Vicky grabbed her bottle of shampoo and lathered the greenish goop into her hair, then rinsed it out and made quick work of washing the rest of her body.

As she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to begin drying herself off, the importance of the day-as well as the possible reason for Theresa's otherwise random visit-occurred to the pink-eyed girl: Assuming today would play out like every other day, her secret admirer would soon be leaving her a note in her locker, one that _required_ he or she open it this time, if they wanted to leave said note.

A certain... Excitement came with this realization. A feeling that made her... Almost giddy! Vicky promptly dried herself off completely and threw her clothes on with renewed vigor, before brushing her teeth and darting out of the bathroom to retrieve her backpack from her bedroom.

 _Meanwhile, downstairs..._

Theresa sat at the Valentine's dinner table, having helped herself to a bowl of cereal that amounted to marshmallows, sugar, some kind of strangely shaped wheat that was the actual cereal, and sugar. The sound of rapid, rushing footsteps made her tilt her head up toward the ceiling and wonder if she'd ever heard her friend move about so quickly before. That wasn't to say Vicky wasn't fit(somehow), but Theresa honestly couldn't remember a time before now when she'd heard the red-head sound so motivated.

It wasn't long before she heard footfalls on the stairs, which were soon followed by their source entering the room, looking... Pretty much the same as she always did. Green, midriff-baring t-shirt, black jeans and sneakers, bright red hair done up in a ponytail, lips shining with a bit of- "Are... Are you wearing _lip gloss_?"

Vicky responded with a steely glare, clearly meant to silence any questions the goth had about her appearance.

"You're wearing lip gloss, aren't you?" The dark-haired girl pointed the spoon in her left hand at her agitated friend; smiling in a way that could best be described as teasing.

"Are you ready to go or not?" Vicky spoke with a clear edge to her tone, her cheeks taking on the familiar pink color of embarrassment that was becoming all too common as of late.

"Go where? We don't need to be at school for..." The goth produced her phone from her pocket and set it down on the table to check the time. "Another twenty minutes, assuming you're gonna even _go_ to homeroom... Plus, I'm eating." Theresa scooped another spoonful of cereal up out of the bowl and into her mouth, then chewed it slowly as the cheeky grin from earlier reappeared on her face. Vicky was... Not quite trapped, but she certainly didn't have any way of avoiding this conversation, not without appearing significantly less stoic than she fronted, anyway.

" _My_ cereal." The older of the two teens raised an expectant eyebrow at her friend and crossed her arms. "And does it _matter_ what I'm wearing? A girl can't use a bit of makeup now and again?"

Theresa finished chewing her mouthful of cereal and swallowed, then allowed a light chuckle to escape her lips. "You can do whatever you like, Vicky. I just... Well, I find myself wondering, why is my best friend-"

"So we're besties now?" Vicky pulled out a chair for herself across from Theresa and sat down, propping her head up in her hand as she leaned on her elbow, gazing at the girl across the table with feigned interest.

Theresa couldn't help but roll her eyes. Even after just waking up, and at _home_ , away from their fellow classmates, Vicky still pretended to live up to her long ago established reputation. "Yeah yeah, big bad babysitter Vicky... Drop the tough girl act, just for a minute. You enjoy my company, and I know it."

"Hmph." The red-head chuckled somewhat humorlessly, more in admiration of how observant this girl clearly _thought_ she was than out of any sort of amusement.

Still... It didn't hurt to throw the dark-haired teen a bone. Theresa was, without a doubt, useful. And while Vicky obviously wasn't fond of roughly ninety-nine percent of the people she knew, Theresa had made a successful effort to endear herself to the pink-eyed teenager. "...Fine. I can admit that you're... Pleasant company. Having you around means I spend less time talking to myself, and as a bonus, I don't need to pay for a shrink to listen to my problems, I've got you for that." She admitted seriously and honestly, a tone she rarely used with people outside her immediate family.

Once she'd finished, a strange, slightly awkward, but mostly pleasant; silence filled the kitchen, only broken on occasion by Theresa as she swished the marshmallows in her bowl of cereal around with her spoon.

After nearly a minute of this, the goth glanced up from her breakfast at her friend, a rather serious look on her face. "You're not just telling me this so you can get in my pants, are you?"

More silence. The _very_ awkward kind.

A wide grin broke out across Theresa's face, exposing her teeth as her body fidgeted with barely restrained laughter.

"You're an ass." Vicky deadpanned and facepalmed amid the dark-haired teen's raucous laughter, again finding herself wondering just _why_ she was friends with this odd girl.

"Aha! Eheehee! I-I'm just sayin', if there's s-something you wanna confess, now's the time before you make your mystery man at school jealous!" Theresa giggled as she finished, then slurped up the rest of her breakfast and stood up to wash the bowl in the sink.

"And you _wonder_ why I hate being nice." Vicky stood up from the table with a weary shake of her head. "Here I am, trying to have a nice, honest moment of friendship with you, and you're not even taking it seriously!" Despite her annoyed tone, the red-head bore an amused grin on her face, one she was just happy Theresa couldn't see since she was facing the sink. "Leave it. We gotta get going; I'll take care of that when I get home tonight."

"Oh... _Someone's_ excited to see who their little trap caught..." The goth remarked slyly as she filled her cereal bowl with water, grabbed her backpack off the chair she'd been using, and moved to match her red-haired friend's brisk pace as she left the kitchen and quickly moved through the living room.

" _Or_ , I don't want to have to deal with him-slash-her messing up my locker trying to escape. The lockers at school are pretty good-sized, so assuming my trap _actually_ worked, whoever's been leaving me notes _should_ be pulled in by the net gun, and effectively trapped as though they were in an iron maiden... Minus the horrible death spikes." Vicky's tone held a modicum of pride as she shut the door behind herself and Theresa, both heading over to, and getting in; the older teen's car. "Still, if they manage to wedge themselves between the back of it and the door, they could probably force it open, _if_ they're strong enough..."

"...Yeah... I'm gonna go with my first guess, and say that you're just excited to meet this poor sap who clearly has a thing for you, yet obviously has no idea what he's in for..." Theresa spoke sympathetically, part of her hoping Vicky's secret admirer somehow had the foresight to not get caught, for his or her own sake.

Vicky started her car and shifted it into reverse, then pulled out of her driveway before shifting into drive. "He's been leaving notes in my locker for the past five months, and until yesterday, I had no plan for catching him, no idea who it could be, and no signs of that ever changing. Thanks to you and the Twerp, I at least might catch him today, and ask him _why_ he loves to spray all his notes with flowery perfume!"

"The... Twerp? You mean Timmy? How did he help?" The young goth questioned, wondering just how the boy that her best friend loved to torment could possibly help her, let alone be _willing_ to.

Vicky, in turn, glanced at her car's side-view mirror evasively, the grin on her face having faded as she mulled over whether or not she should tell Theresa about Timmy's florist grandmother. Some part of her conscience, unheeded and ignored as it usually went; told her that it would be a betrayal of the brunet's trust, as it _was_ technically something he told her in confidence...

Yet this was also Theresa. While they'd only briefly met on a few occasions, the goth seemed to have a certain fondness for the brunet, and Vicky was fairly confident that she wouldn't make fun of Timmy, let alone for something a bit personal like his intimate knowledge of flowers.

She sighed, realizing they were already less than a minute away from her and Theresa's high school. "Timmy's... Grandmother used to be a florist, apparently. I guess before I used to keep an eye on him... Hell, maybe even after I started, but couldn't some days; his parents used to drop him off at her house, and she taught him a lot about flowers; taking care of them, how they smelled... That sort of thing."

"Okay...?" The dark-haired girl moved her right hand in a circular motion in the air, ushering for her friend to continue.

"Well yesterday, when I was babysitting him, he decided to be nosy and asked about the note I found in my locker, which I..." Vicky let out another sigh, mostly at her own self-perceived stupidity. "Like an idiot, left on the table in the living room for him to notice..."

"Oh boy." Theresa chuckled, speaking in a sly, knowing tone. "Lemme guess, he teased you for swooning like a lovestruck schoolgirl, right?"

Which, much to the younger teen's amusement; earned her another glare, slightly marred by a dusting of pink on the red-head's cheeks. "I do _not_ swoon."

"No, of course not." Theresa spoke with a roll of her eyes. "You just get all excited and put on lip gloss for a guy or girl who might be a creepy stalker."

" _Anyway_." The red-head glared at her friend out of the corner of her eye, her tone forceful and venomous. "Timmy helped me figure out that the last card smelled like lavender, which is usually used-"

"To help people with anxiety or anger issues calm down." The goth interrupted nonchalantly, as if this fact about lavender was common knowledge.

"How- How do you know that?" Vicky questioned with a bemused expression.

" _You_ don't? People have been using lavender to help calm down for... I dunno, a _really_ long time." Again, Theresa remarked in a neutral tone, shrugging her shoulders as she finished. "But we're getting sidetracked here; it was _Timmy_ who told you this? The kid I've met a couple times who you're always calling the Twerp? _That_ Timmy?"

"Yeah... Why does it matter? His grandmother used to be a florist, she taught him a lot about flowers, so that explains how he knows...?" The pink-eyed teen trailed off as she pulled into her favored parking spot, just in front of the stairs leading up to the high school's front door. "If you think I'm worried about him telling people I've got a secret admirer, don't. He may be Twerpy, but he knows to keep his mouth shut, lest I make his life even _more_ miserable." Vicky lied, the reality of her babysitting relationship with Timmy being that she simply made sure he did his chores, then allowed him to do as he pleased, for the most part. All because she made a promise to Tootie to _try_ to be a little nicer, since the brunet was her friend. Gone were the days where she'd threaten him with various blunt or sharp objects, blackmail him into being her slave, or just outright be unpleasant toward him for kicks. Though that wasn't to say she looked back on those days fondly, either. It was more along the lines of indifference now.

"...don't find that- Vicky? Vicky!" Theresa snapped her fingers in front of the red-head's face, rousing her from her reverie.

"Hm?" Vicky turned toward her goth friend, shooting her a questioning look as her eyes readjusted to reality. "What? You say something?"

"Jeez, maybe I _should've_ let you get your extra fifteen minutes of sleep after all. You're drifting off to Wonderland here!" The dark-haired girl chuckled, giving Vicky's shoulder a gentle shove.

"Ugh..." The older teen yawned, then attempted to blink away the sudden feeling of tiredness that came over her. "Probably wasn't the best idea to skip breakfast either... So, uh... What... Were you saying?"

"Um..." Theresa held her chin in thought, before snapping her fingers as the memory returned to her. "Oh! About Timmy..."

"You can't have him. I have full ownership of the Twerp. He's _mine_." Vicky remarked deviously, bearing a grin that matched the tone of her voice.

"Eheh... Right..." Theresa tapped her fingers together and looked down at her lap awkwardly. "Which... Kinda makes this a bit weirder to ask, but..." She trailed off, her voice dropping to a murmur in volume. "You don't... Think it's a little... Coincidental that Timmy knows a lot about flowers, _and_ was willing to help you on a whim?"

"...Not really, no. He's... He's a good kid at heart. A lot nicer than someone who's had me as a babysitter probably should be. Much as my sister used to drive him up a wall with her crazy obsession with him, he still has no problem just being her friend, and even with how much of a bitch I can be, he never really... Seems to hold it against me, I guess." Vicky chuckled to herself, realizing she found Timmy's naivete to be pretty endearing, in a way. Possibly even cute, though she'd never admit it to anyone, and would swear up and down to her grave that it was a lie if someone ever heard her say it.

"Really now? And even _that_ doesn't make you a little suspicious?" The goth stared at her friend with a look of clear disbelief. Vicky was smart, deviously so, not to mention observant, and was seemingly able to think up a solution for most problems in little time as well; yet at the moment, Theresa couldn't quite believe Vicky was so dense! She was nearly positive the red-head was messing with her.

"Suspicious of what? And _what_ exactly seems coincidental? You lost me here." The older teen frowned, her expression sowing obvious signs of bewilderment at what her dark-haired passenger was saying.

"Vicky. Seriously? Your secret admirer leaving you flowery-smelling notes? _Timmy_ _ **knowing**_ about flowery smells? _And_ helping you despite you being his 'evil' babysitter? Or how about how all the notes have been really sweet, and _Timmy_ doesn't hold a grudge for-and pardon me for saying-the bullshit you've put him through?" As she spoke, Theresa counted off each item on her fingers, her voice growing more and more disbelieving in tone as she went on. "Like come _on_! How are you not seeing this?!"

In truth, the red-head was _indeed_ seeing her friend's point, she just wasn't insane enough to believe it, and deadpanned once the girl finished. "You think _Timmy's_ been leaving me the notes? What the Hell are you on? ...And can I get some?"

"You're seriously in denial about this." The girl remarked flatly, lips forming a thin line as she offered Vicky a deadpan expression of her own. "Think about it though, and I mean _seriously_. You said yourself that you had _no_ idea who it could be, since pretty much everyone in our school _knows_ what you're like. Timmy and the person leaving you notes _both_ know a fair amount about flowers _and_ the notes clearly indicate that this person knows you on a personal level; enough to know what you look like, and your general attitude toward... Well, most people..." Theresa shrugged, taking a moment to organize her thoughts and allow some air back into her lungs.

"Pfft... That doesn't mean a damn thing. First, Timmy's _eleven_ ; plus, while you're right that he knows me pretty well, that means he _knows_ I'm not exactly the most pleasant person to be around. Why would the Twerp, of _all_ people, have a crush on his-and I'm quoting him here- _evil_ babysitter? I know I've had an effect on him, but what you're talking is like... Stockholm's Syndrome or something, or at the very least, some _very_ poor survival instincts." Vicky felt another surge of energy flow through her as she finished, and moved to grab her backpack from the backseat of her car. "Now c'mon, _you're_ gonna be late for class, and _I'm_ eager to prove you wrong and show that _whoever_ is in my locker, _isn't_ the Twerp!" The red-head shoved open the driver side door and stepped out of her car, shutting it behind her as she heard a similar sound from the passenger side.

"I don't think I've _ever_ seen anyone so deep in denial over something so glaringly obvious..." Theresa muttered as she fell into step next to Vicky, both climbing the front stairs of their high school and entering the double doors at the top. "Don't you realize that if you take the impossible out of this equation, the result-even if it's completely outlandish-has to be the truth?"

"You read that in a mystery novel, Sherlock?" The older teen remarked somewhat bitterly; her friend's insistence on the ridiculous notion that Timmy was the one leaving her romantic notes beginning to get on her nerves.

"Fine, be stubborn..." The goth shook her head, resigning herself to the fact that she couldn't convince her friend without proof; and proof she would have in just a few seconds, as they turned down the hallway that contained both teens' lockers. "How 'bout this: We'll have a bet."

"A bet?" Vicky glanced at her friend with renewed interest. "What kinda bet?"

"Since you seem to believe it couldn't _possibly_ be Timmy in your locker, and _I'm_ almost positive it is, let's have a little bet. I say Timmy's in your locker, so I win if he is; and you say Timmy's _not_ in your locker, so if he's not, you win."

"Hm..." Vicky crossed her arms over her chest as she walked, humming in thought as she considered Theresa's offer. "S'not much of a bet y'know... What do I get if I win?"

"Um... I dunno, didn't really have much time to consider it, this being a spur of the moment type of thing... Whatever you want, I guess?" Theresa's voice contained a hint of uncertainty as she wondered what her red-haired friend could possibly want from her.

"...Fair enough." Vicky nodded her head, finding the first half of the bet's terms agreeable, if a little ambiguous. "And... I'm not saying you have a snowball's chance of winning, but what do you want in the absolutely impossible chance that you do win?"

"Ooh... Tough call... Can I-"

"No, you can't ask for the same thing I did. After our little talk in my kitchen, I'm a little worried you might try to use this bet to get in _my_ pants." The red-head chuckled, a playful grin forming on her lips.

"Darn! Foiled again!" Vicky's dark-haired friend exclaimed in a tone dripping with sarcasm. "Ah... But seriously, how 'bout something simple? If I win, you... _Convince_ the powers that be of our high school to let me have the same freedom to do as I please around here that you do...?"

" _That's_ what you want? ...Sounds to me like you just want more time to hang out with your 'best friend'." The older teen spoke slyly. "If that's all you wanted, you should've just asked, I would've done _that_ for free!"

"Whatever." Theresa rolled her eyes as she stepped over to Vicky's locker, then to the right of it, while Vicky herself stopped in front of it. "We're finally here, so hurry-"

 _Bang!_

Both teens jumped as something was slammed against the locker door from within.

"Gotta say, you know how to build a trap with what's available." Theresa spoke, sounding mildly impressed.

"Yeah, I'm a regular Jill of all trades... Calm down in there, I'm opening the door..." Vicky called out to her capture, rapping on the locker door a few times as she dialed in its combination.

There was a faint click as the net gun's trigger was pulled by the string attached to the door, before the red-head pulled it open all the way, and her captive hopped out, nearly tipping over due to being wrapped up in thick black netting. The strangely short figure shrugged and wiggled about, eventually getting enough of the netting of themselves to uncover their face. "Grr... A frickin' trap?! Really Vicky?!"

Except, much to Vicky's confusion and chagrin, the person wrapped up wasn't a fellow high schooler, Timmy, or even _male_! "T-Tootie?! What the Hell- What are you _doing_ here?!" She shouted, her voice echoing down the hall, and probably throughout Dimmsdale High.

"Hey Tootie." Theresa waved somewhat stiffly, the confusion in her voice _very_ evident on her face. While it was true she lost the bet, her Friday morning had just gotten much, _much_ more interesting.


	5. Chapter 5

"Explain." Vicky glared at her sister, her arms crossed over her chest commandingly as she leaned up against the teacher's desk behind her.

After discovering Tootie in her locker, Vicky, her previously mentioned little sister, and Theresa had left the hallway and entered the first empty classroom they came across, with Vicky sitting Tootie down in one of the student desks near the front of the classroom, while the red-head herself stood before her, and Theresa sat behind Vicky at the teacher's desk, taking the opportunity to search its many drawers for anything interesting while she waited for her friend to grill her little sister for information.

"It's complicated." Tootie pouted defiantly and adopted a pose similar to her sister's, her gaze trained toward the classroom's windows, and the school parking lot beyond.

"Well that's convenient, because we've got all day-"

"Actually, I can probably only afford to miss one class at the most, Vicky." Theresa cut in, tapping her friend's bare hip with her index finger.

Vicky rolled her eyes, wondering why on Earth she allowed Theresa to come with her and Tootie. "...Well _I've_ got all day, Tootie. So start talking."

"About what? The weather? Our school project? _Why_ you've got a fricking _trap_ in your school locker?!" The raven-haired girl's tone began rather sweet, but soon progressed to something closer to bitter, and finally ended as outright accusatory.

"No, nuh-uh." Vicky brought her arm up and extended her index finger, pointed it toward the ceiling, and wagged it back and forth. " _I'm_ the one asking the questions here, not you. First off, what the _hell_ were you doing in my locker?! Why are you even _here_?! Did you skip school?" Her voice steadily increased in volume as she questioned her sister, up to the point that she was nearly yelling.

"Gee, Sis, I dunno, maybe I was in your locker because you turned it into an iron maiden-slash-net trap?!" Tootie yelled right back in turn, more out of being embarrassed at being caught than actual anger.

"Which you wouldn't have gotten caught in if you hadn't come here to drop off that little note of yours in the first place! Since when do you even _know_ the combination to my locker-Hm?" The red-head felt another light tap on her hip, and looked over her shoulder at Theresa in response. "What?"

"I know... This is kind of a family thing, and I should probably y'know... Stay out of it, but... Why not take a few deep breaths, and calm down?" The goth spoke in a gentle tone, a far cry from her usual sarcasm or unfailing perkiness. "Clearly there's some stuff going on here that I... Don't _quite_ understand, but yelling at Tootie isn't gonna solve anything." She tilted her head a little to Vicky's right to look past her and at Tootie. "And Tootie, I think that your older sister _does_ deserve some kind of explanation. It's pretty obvious you're skipping school to deliver these notes, assuming it _has_ been you all this time, and I- Er... I mean..." The dark-haired girl's cheeks took on a light pink blush as she paused for a few seconds, wondering at the obvious implications of finding out that Tootie was the one leaving these little romantic notes in Vicky's locker. "If you like Vicky- What I mean to say is, with the notes... And how Vicky's told me they were romanti-"

The raven-haired girl rolled her eyes, quickly realizing where Theresa was headed with her assumptions. "Ugh, no, I don't have a crush on my older sister. Let's get that out of the way right off the bat." Tootie shook her head back and forth, her expression turning slightly more calm, though there was still a clear hint of annoyance on her face at being caught.

"Ohthankgod." Theresa muttered under her breath quickly, a low sigh of relief escaping her lips. "Eheh... Not saying I'd judge or anything, but I think I might have to leave a lot sooner; that's... Kind of a hard thing to wrap my head around... The... Incest. Not the... Being a lesbian part, just so we're..." The goth trailed off as her red-haired friend shot her a glare, bidding her to stop talking. "I'm-Uh... Gonna just keep quiet and look through this desk now... Feel free to pretend I'm not here..."

Turing her attention back to her little sister, Vicky brought her right hand to her chin in thought, while using her left arm to hold her right up. "So... You're delivering these notes _for_ my secret admirer, is that what you're saying?"

"Hmph. I didn't _say_ anything. You're free to infer whatever you want." Tootie remarked somewhat evasively, turning her head to face the classroom's windows once more.

"Would you stop being _difficult_? _Someone_ has been writing these notes to me for the better part of five months, and now I know _you're_ the one sneaking them into my locker, so... Out with it! I'm tired of these damn games!" The older teen threw her arms up in the air exasperatedly.

"...You're not the only one..." Tootie mumbled under her breath, ensuring she was still loud enough to be heard by her older sister.

"Alright, so why not just _tell_ me _who_. It. Is?!" Vicky stomped her right foot, hard enough to make a book fall over somewhere near the back of the classroom. "...Or maybe I should just tell mom and dad you've been skipping school? Bet they'd find _that_ pretty interesting, don't you, Sis?"

The raven-haired girl looked back at her older sister with narrowed eyes; honestly surprised that Vicky would threaten to blackmail _her_ , her own flesh and blood. "You can if you want." Tootie shrugged, her lips curling up into a sly smirk.

"Huh." Vicky deadpanned, suddenly caught off guard by her little sister's surge of confidence. "What do you mean by that? I'll do it, you know."

"Go right ahead." She shrugged again, then leaned forward in her seat, letting her elbow come to rest on the desk as she propped her head up in her hand. "The only issue is that, even if you could prove that I _did_ skip school today, you've got no proof that I've skipped any other days, plus I'm a straight 'A' student. Mom and dad aren't gonna care that I'm skipping school, so long as I'm passing all my classes with flying colors... And you _know_ I am..."

Vicky looked toward the floor and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping her gesture hid the small, prideful smile on her face. _"Ah... I guess I don't give Toots enough credit after all..."_

"Ooh... She got you there, Vicky." Theresa spoke with a low, amused voice just to her friend's right side, earning her another annoyed glare, though she merely rolled her eyes at this one and went back to rummaging through the teacher's desk.

"Argh... Alright, so _maybe_ you planned this out better than I thought. Fine, but I seriously doubt you want to spend the next several hours sitting in that desk, 'cause your ass is gonna be killing you later."

Almost on cue, Tootie wiggled back and forth in her chair, silently agreeing with Vicky's point.

"So..." The red-head pushed herself away from the desk, then began pacing back and forth in front of it, once again holding her chin in thought. "Who is it?"

"Gonna have to try harder than that, Vicky." The bespectacled girl deadpanned, mildly offended at the idea that her older sister thought she'd make it this easy for her. "But... You know him-and he _is_ a _him_ , since I _know_ you've been wondering if it's a guy or a girl."

"Oh, well that certainly narrows it down." Vicky deadpanned sarcastically. "So he's a guy, leaving... Roughly half of the people I've ever met in my entire life. Awesome." The older teen turned to face Theresa. "You... I dunno, wanna write this down or something?"

"Is this an interrogation now?" Theresa giggled, but fished a sheet of paper out of the desk regardless, then began writing on it. "A guy."

"A guy." Vicky repeated back, then turned back around to face Tootie. "Do I _know_ this guy? ...Like, we've met in a formal kind of sense?"

"You've met, yes." The raven-haired girl nodded, seemingly taking a moment to consider whether she should continue. "In fact, you've known him for at least a year." She added innocently, knowing the information did little to help narrow down her sister's list of potential admirers.

"So, just so we're clear, you _do_ plan on telling me who it is at some point, right?" The red-head asked, frowning at the unintentional hint of worry in her voice.

"Mmmaayybeee..." Tootie sang out playfully. "I _am_ getting a bit tired of this back and forth thing, and it _would_ be nice to be able to just _tell_ you who it is..."

"So _why_ don't you-" Vicky spoke up, only to be interrupted as Tootie began speaking again.

"But at the same time, I made a promise to this person. I can't tell you outright _who_ he is, but if you should happen to figure it out through subtle hints I give you, that means I'm free of my promise without breaking it, and maybe _he_ can finally tell you he likes you." The raven-haired girl smiled sweetly as she finished, though there was a certain deviousness to the smile that Vicky immediately picked up on.

"...You are making this _way_ more complicated than it needs to be." Vicky remarked with a shake of her head, once more leaning up against the teacher's desk as she crossed her arms and let her gaze drop to the floor.

"Yes. Yes I am. But only because you obviously can't _see_ the answer, even when it's staring you straight in the face!" Tootie raised her voice as she finished, growing a little exasperated herself.

" _Hm... Who could it be...?"_ Vicky thought to herself, ignoring the slight outburst by her sister. " _Right in front of my...?"_ Her thoughts returned to the conversation she'd had with Theresa earlier, when her goth friend suggested it might be _Timmy_ , of all people; who was leaving the notes. She'd vehemently denied it then, of course; finding the very idea to be completely outlandish, and opening her locker proved that Vicky was right, Timmy _wasn't_ the one leaving the notes(which she made sure she pointed out to Theresa once they'd untangled Tootie from the net).

But that now left an interesting idea in her mind. _Tootie_ was leaving the notes, but Tootie also knew Vicky's locker combination, she'd be the perfect person _to_ have leave the notes, while someone else-like a certain Twerpy brunet-haired friend of her little sister-was the one _actually_ writing them. And where once she'd found the idea of Timmy crushing on her to be ludicrous at best, it was now a possibility that steadily became harder and harder to rule out. _"Not without more proof. I need to be sure it's him before I... Do something 'rash' as Theresa likes to put it..."_ Temporarily sending the idea that Timmy was her secret admirer to the back of her mind, Vicky looked back up to meet her younger sister's violet-eyed gaze. "Older than me?"

"No, much as I'm sure you'd like a sugar daddy, he's a bit younger than you." Tootie chuckled teasingly, causing the slightest of blushes to appear on her older sister's cheeks.

The red-head blinked her eyes closed, attempting to will away the anger she was beginning to feel toward her sister, who was clearly just putting on a show for Theresa, the best she'd get for an audience.

Meanwhile, the goth in question quickly added each new fact to her paper as it came, her interest in the mystery becoming increasingly piqued with each new bit of information.

"Don't suppose you'll elaborate on 'a bit', will you?" Vicky asked flatly, already assuming the kind of answer she'd receive.

"He's between... One and six years younger than you." Tootie paused for a moment to mentally check her math, then nodded. "Yep."

The red-head again drifted off into her own thoughts as she heard the low sound of a pen scribbling on paper behind her. _"Between one and six? That leaves any guy I know between sixteen and eleven years old!"_ Vicky released a low huff though her nose, realizing the latest piece of information could once again include Timmy, as he was just shy of five and a half years younger than her. "...I _know_ the answer to this, but still feel the need to ask... It's not Ricky, is it?"

"Ricky? I haven't even _heard_ that name since he dumped you for Crocker's hypochondriac mother! I don't think he even _lives_ in Dimmsdale anymore!" Tootie couldn't help but laugh, eliciting a low grumble from her red-haired sister. "Heehee! N-No, it wasn't Ricky. I fear for that guy's life if you ever _do_ run in to him again..."

"Hair color?" Vicky moved on to her next question, some part of her steadily growing more flustered with each query, as she was quickly realizing that the possible candidates were being narrowed down, yet Timmy remained in the 'running', so to speak.

"Ooh... Now _that's_ a good question! Brown, brunet, chocolate, whichever you prefer..." Tootie trailed off as Vicky hung her head, mistaking the action as her sister being more than fed up with her little game. "And... Y'know... Blue eyes that you could get lost in... Big buck teeth-"

"I _know_ , Tootie." The red-head cut her sister off with a glare, her tone resigned and a little weary. But it doesn't- Aren't you angry with him? Why help him when you-"

"Because-! ...Because he's my friend. And he likes _you_." Tootie shifted back and forth in her seat, though it was more out of discomfort from the chair than unease at the situation. "And _you're_ my sister, I want you to be happy... _Both_ of you."

"...Aren't you a little young to be playing matchmaker, Toots?" Vicky's voice dropped in tone, becoming something far softer than what usually came out of her mouth; almost gentle. "Seriously, why help him? You _did_ like him for... What, the-"

"Better part part of two and a half years, yeah... But we're... Not quite the right fit for each other, y'know? What guy would see a cute girl practically throwing herself at him as nothing more than a friend? It was... Tough to come to terms with, but c'mon, I'm not some delicate little flower, Sis. I'm eleven, there are plenty more boys out there for me to meet, and... Just give him a chance, please?" The raven-haired girl dropped her sarcastic, mildly haughty demeanor, adopting an honest, almost pleading one toward her sister.

"Hum..." Vicky once again closed her eyes, then brought both hands up to massage her temples. "Does he even know _why_ he likes me? Don't get me wrong, I know I'm a pretty..." She looked down at herself, an appreciative smile on her lips. "Well... _Everything_ , but-"

"Um! Sorry, but you two have completely lost me." Theresa interjected, giving Vicky yet another light tap on her bare hip. "Who're we talking about?" She looked back and forth between the two Valentine sisters with a bemused expression, earning her disbelieving looks from Vicky and Tootie in turn.

"Timmy!" Both sisters shouted at the goth, making her flinch slightly.

"Oh." Theresa looked down at the paper she'd been writing on for Vicky. "Ohh... How did I not see that?"

" _Anyway_..." The oldest teen in the room refocused her attention on the youngest; her sister. "I'm not promising anything other than that I will _talk_ to Timmy-"

"Vicky... You _do_ mean _talk_ , right? Am I gonna have to warn him that you're gonna be at his house today?" Tootie asked, the worry in her voice quite evident, considering who it was she was talking to.

"Oh, that reminds me... Gimme your phone." The red-head stepped over to the desk Tootie occupied, and held out her hand expectantly.

"And _why_ do you want my phone? Pretty sure you've got one already..." The younger girl braced her feet against the floor and pushed herself, and the desk she sat in; backward, away from Vicky.

Undeterred, she slowly followed after her bespectacled sister, until the back of Tootie's chair collided with the front of the desk behind her. "I certainly can't have you warning the Twerp that I'm gonna be at his house, now can I?" Vicky forcefully brought the palms of her hands down on either side of Tootie's desk, ensuring she couldn't escape.

"Rrgh... F-Fine! But you better not do anything mean! I'm serious, Vicky!" Sporting a defiant, annoyed expression, Tootie took her cellphone out and placed it on the desk, suddenly realizing how similar the situation was to when she got caught using her phone in class a few weeks back, and Crocker attempted to take it away.

"No promises. One's my limit." The red-head scooped the phone up off the desk and slipped it into her pocket. "C'mon, I'm taking you home."

"Wha-? Not to school? I still have classes-"

"I know." Vicky shrugged indifferently. "But if I bring you back to school, that gives you another opportunity to tell Timmy that the two of you have been caught. You and him have been enacting this little plan for over five months now, and I've been at a complete loss. You've both gone behind my back, and left me in the dark, so now, it's my turn to get the upper hand on our mutual Twerp, got it?"

"Ooh... Don't you sound threatening.." Theresa muttered out playfully and stood up from the desk, earning her yet another glare from her red-haired friend. Once out of her seat, she stretched her arms up over her head, attempting to get some of the stiffness out of her joints. "Ah... Much as I'd like to come with you and see you and Timmy confess your feelings for each other like in a cutesy romance story, I _really_ ought to get to my next class."

"Wasn't gonna bring you anyway. I don't want witnesses for when things inevitably head south..." Vicky shut her eyes and crossed her arms, wondering at the best way to get Timmy to fess up, if he tried to deny all the proof against him... Only for her eyes to shoot wide open as she realized just _what_ she'd said. "N-No! I didn't mean-!"

"I never took you for the type to 'head south' Vicky!" Theresa brought her hands up to make little air quotes, then snickered at the unfortunate implications of what her friend had said.

"Y-You're a perv..." Vicky's cheeks blushed a bright crimson as she gave Theresa's shoulder a gentle shove, pushing her toward the door of the classroom.

"Hey, I'm just saying, try not to scar Timmy _too_ much, alright?" The goth dashed out of the classroom as she finished, noticing how similar the color of her friend's face was to a tomato, and slightly fearing the dirty look Vicky shot her.

"I _must_ have suffered a head injury at some point, thinking having her as a friend was a good idea..." The seventeen year old facepalmed and slowly shook her head back and forth.

"What... Uh... What did she mean about 'going south'? And... Trying not to scar Timmy?" Tootie shot her older sister a bewildered look, which only deepened as she noticed Vicky's blush return in full force, making her absently wonder if her sister's cheeks felt as hot as their redness made them look.

"Th-That-Uh... Theresa's- ...You'll understand when you're older." The red-head replied in a flustered, evasive tone, and looked away from Tootie, trying in vain to hide the bashful look on her face.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Finally, this fic is done. Really need to stop turning oneshots in to multi-chapter stories like this, else I'll never get anything done! ...Quickly, anyway. I feel the need to leave the warning that there are potentially lethal doses of sugar and general fuzziness ahead, so... There. :P

* * *

"Come on, Tootie..." Timmy mumbled to himself as he stood before his house's front door and checked his phone, which had yet to receive any sort of response to the nearly dozen text messages he'd sent to his friend since they parted ways at school, with Timmy heading off to class, and Tootie going to Dimmsdale High to drop off the brunet's note for her older sister. "Shoot, what if something happened? Maybe her parents caught her? Or a passing police car wondering why she wasn't in school? Or..." The brunet gulped, fearing the worst for his best friend. "Or... What if _Vicky_ caught her...?"

A feeling of immense worry swept over the eleven year old as he broke out in a nervous sweat. His babysitter _had_ been giving him a somewhat suspicious look the day before, when he accidentally let it slip that _someone_ had been leaving notes in her locker for the past five months... _"But... I thought I was in the clear! Vicky seemed to think that she just forgot about telling me how long it'd been,_ _so... So if she didn't suspect anything... Where's Tootie?"_

The brunet released a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as he unlocked his front door and opened it, then took his phone back out and started typing away at it. "One more time. If she doesn't respond in the next fifteen minutes... Oh... I'll have to try and see what Cosmo and Wanda can do-" He mumbled to himself as he sent the message, then slipped his phone back into his pocket. "Hopefully-"

 _Bzzt!_

Timmy froze in his front doorway, his left foot in the air, mid-step as he heard the loud buzz come from the coffee table in the middle of his living room. Right in the center of the table, laying on its back, was Tootie's phone, all girly and over-bedazzled with rhinestones. And next to it was a pair of black sneakers that rested on the table as well, one crossed over the other, as though their owner had been waiting for quite some time, and chose to make themself- _herself_ -comfortable. The boy's gaze slowly moved up the figure's slender, black jean-clad legs, up past the exposed skin of her waist, hips and belly button, over the lime-green, midriff-baring t-shirt, further still over the delicate, pale-colored skin of the older teen's neck, and at last settled on her face, marred by a clearly annoyed, and possibly a little confused, expression, her vibrant pink eyes seemingly staring more _through_ Timmy than at him as a few strands of her bright red hair hung over her face. "Tootie can't come to the phone right now, but I'd be happy to take the message for her..."

"H-Hey..." Timmy waved at his babysitter nervously, then closed the front door behind him as he took a few steps into his living room, his eyes darting between the stairs leading to the second floor, and the couch where Vicky, and(he imagined) a very long conversation awaited him. "I... Ehehe... Forgot you were babysitting me today..." He quickly glanced at Tootie's phone, knowing that, considering she hadn't answered any of his texts, Vicky must've finally caught her. "Um... Any... Particular reason you've got Tootie's phone?"

"I find confronting someone with certain _sensitive_ information is _so_ much easier when they don't know the confrontation is coming, know what I mean?" Vicky reclined back on the couch, then put her arms behind her head to act as a makeshift pillow. "Before you ask, Tootie's fine. Once I let her out of my locker trap-which I designed, by the way-she told me some _very_ interesting information about you... And me, I suppose." The red-head paused to consider her words, and brought her right hand to her chin, rubbing it in thought. "Well, I suppose the correct term-to quote my devious little sister-would be 'inferred'."

"Oh? I don't-" Timmy fell silent, the knowing look from the older girl was all he needed to realize that his secret was out. "I'm-Uh... I should p-probably go f-feed Cosmo and Wanda, they get pretty hungry r-right around the t-time I come... Home...?" The boy stammered out, hoping his babysitter would give him this one respite, so he could go upstairs and wish that Tootie hadn't been caught... Or that she'd stayed home from school today... Or... Anything! Anything to get him out of this situation that he was infinitely unprepared for!

"Mm-mm..." Vicky shook her head back and forth, then patted the couch cushion next to the one she occupied. "Sit. _Now_."

"Eh... If it's all the same to you, Vicky... I'd... Rather stand...?" Timmy's reply came out sounding more like a question than a statement, his tone high-pitched and meek.

" _Sit_." The red-head spoke in a forceful, commanding tone, the patting motion of her hand on the couch turning into more of an annoyed spanking.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, Timmy hung his head and slouched, slowly made his way across his living room, between the coffee table and couch, then finally sat down... On the far end of said couch, putting as much distance between himself and his babysitter as he could.

"...Argh...! _Next_ to me!" The seventeen year old lunged toward her charge, looped her left arm around both his shoulders, then dragged him across the couch cushions, before releasing him once he was seated(reluctantly) on the cushion next to hers.

With that task complete, she folded her arms back over her chest and adopted a thoughtful expression, her eyes closed and head tilted down toward her navel. _"Crap... I didn't actually think I'd catch him before he ran upstairs and locked himself in his room..."_ Vicky opened her left eye and peeked out at the boy next to her. His own gaze was similarly cast down toward his lap as he tapped his index fingers together, looking almost... _"Ashamed? What could you be thinking, kid? Suppose he might feel guilty for using Tootie... Maybe he's just worried about what I'm gonna_ do _to him now that he's been caught?"_ Vicky thought to herself, then looked back down toward her own lap and shut her eye again.

"So Tootie's... Back at you guys' house?" The brunet attempted to break the awkward(in his opinion) silence with a bit of light conversation, hoping he could distract the red-head away from the ire she very likely felt toward him.

"After I caught her, and she... _Inferred_ quite a bit about _who_ it was leaving those notes in my locker, I left school and brought her home. Made sure to take her phone away so she couldn't call or text you and tell you that I figured out the little... I don't even know what to call it... Plan, I guess? That you two had? Also had to stay there and occupy her for five or so hours, just to make sure she didn't sneak out, or try to reach you with the house phone..." Vicky at last opened her eyes and turned her head to look at Timmy, a slight grin on her face. "You don't have a florist grandmother."

Timmy's eyes widened in surprise as he quickly turned toward the older girl, his blue orbs locking on to her pink ones. "Ah... Heheh... That's-Um... Tootie-She told you about that, huh?"

"Ayup." The seventeen year old nodded, her grin growing marginally wider. "Y'know something, Twerp? _That_ impressed me, once I found out you made her up. Your whole story about an ex-florist grandmother who taught you all about flowers? _That_ , was a _very_ convincing lie."

"Er... Thank... You? Aren't you... Mad that I lied to you?" Timmy stared at his-let's be honest-crush with a bemused and somewhat relieved look on his face.

"Nah, not really. I'm sure the _actual_ reason for you being so knowledgeable about flowers is either really boring, or really, _really_ embarrassing, so we'll save it for some other time." Vicky waved her hand in the air dismissively, eager to move on to a more interesting topic... As soon as she could decide on which one.

" _Talk about dodging a bullet..."_ The younger of the couch's two occupants felt at least one of his worries slip away, his brain sighing in mental relief, knowing he wouldn't have to explain the magical origins of his rather out-of-the-blue knowledge of flowers.

"That said, I feel the need to ask... Why flowers? Do I _seem_ like the 'flowers' type to you?" The red-head asked as she oriented her body to her left to face Timmy, her left arm resting lazily on the back of the couch. It was more than obvious to her now that Timmy was indeed her little secret admirer, and she hoped he'd realize this, and in turn drop any notions he might have had of denying it. Now she wanted answers, and was determined to get them(with a little prodding, if necessary).

"...Well... Why not? That's what guys do, right? Spray the love letters they write to the person they like with perfume and stuff?" The brunet's cheeks rapidly bloomed a bright red color as his mind caught up with his mouth's ramblings, his expression becoming marred with fear that suggested he'd done something unforgivable, rather than accidentally let the 'L' word slip out. "...N-Not that-! Um... I wasn't saying I _l-love_ you, or any- Uh... Heheh... Does it f-feel warm in h-here to y-you?"

"Jeez Timmy, relax." The older teen facepalmed to hide the grin on her face, finding her charge's embarrassed rambling and near-luminescent blush- _"Just too damn cute!"_ Vicky did her best to will her grin away and took on a(relatively) neutral expression once more. "I know I can be... Kind of... Well..."

"Terrifying." The eleven year old spoke up, finishing her sentence for her.

Which earned him a steely glare from the red-head, her cheeks stained with the barest pink hint of a blush. "I was gonna say intimidating..."

"...Sorry." Timmy squeaked out, curling up slightly and trying to look as small as possible.

"...Hah..." Vicky sighed heavily, hanging her head in much the same way the brunet had when she demanded he join her on the couch. "You're still pretty scared of... Whatever you _think_ I'm gonna do to you, aren't ya?" She chuckled out sadly, knowing Timmy's unease around her was her own fault, and that it couldn't be attributed _exclusively_ to his odd feelings for her.

Timmy visibly relaxed just a little, allowing his legs to stretch back out over the side of the couch. "It's... Kind of a force of habit." He remarked apologetically, scooting over a few inches closer to his babysitter. "I know- ...Or, I _think_ I know that you won't do any of the stuff... You used to..."

"...You know I'd never hit you, right?" Vicky asked quietly, and maybe a little hopefully as well. Yes, she'd lost her temper with the boy on multiple occasions, but she never once laid a hand on him in such a way that could be considered assault... Not in a court of law, anyway.

"Well yeah, obviously." Timmy rolled his eyes at his babysitter's question, his gaze eventually settling on hers. "Even evil has standards, isn't that how the saying goes? ...And besides, I don't think you're that evil anyway; wouldn't li- _like_ you if I did, so... Um..." He trailed off into a low mutter as he finished, the cherry-red blush returning to his cheeks in full force.

"Ah... Well... Th-That's-Um... Nice of you. To say." Vicky felt a strange, not completely unfamiliar giddy feeling sweep through her, making her chest feel a bit warm. There were honestly a thousand questions on her mind that she wanted to ask the young boy, and her brain couldn't seem to decide on a single one. _"I can't believe it's been_ him _these past few months! The notes about how_ pretty _or_ beautiful _I looked on a particular day,_ _how he doesn't see me as... 'Icky'..."_ She frowned at the annoying nickname bestowed upon her by Chip Skylark. _"And..."_ Her mind shot back to the most recent note she'd received. _"How if he could spend time with anyone..._ Me _?!"_ Vicky glanced down toward her stomach with a look of mild disgust at the fluttery feeling coming from it. "Don't um- Take this the wrong way, but... All those notes you wrote for me... That _was_ you, right?"

"...Mostly." Timmy admitted hesitantly as he scratched the back of his head. "I'm... Not exactly a master when it comes to writing and poetry, which... You can see by looking at my report card..."

"You've got a C-plus in your writing class, and even _that_ surprises me." The seventeen year old deadpanned with a sly smirk, which Timmy responded to by sticking his tongue out at her.

"I never thought I'd end up using it so much!" The brunet pouted, then humphed and crossed his arms defiantly, turning his gaze toward the left wall of the living room. "...Writing is hard..."

"Mm-hm...? So how'd you get so good at it?" The red-head scooted over next to Timmy, lightly prodding his right shoulder with her index finger. "You had help, right?"

Timmy released a huff through his nose, then turned back toward his babysitter, jumping slightly at her sudden closeness, and having to tilt his head up to look her in the eye. "Well... Y'know... I wanted it to be _good_..."

"And it _was_ good! It _is_!" Vicky slowly let her left hand slide off the back of the couch and down the cushion behind Timmy, until it settled on the top of his head, knocking his pink hat off as she gently ruffled his hair. "I may not be the best judge, since _no one_ has _ever_ written me notes or valentines or whatever, but... I mean _wow_ , Twerp, you can be really sweet when you like someone!" _"_ _Still just can't believe it's_ me _..."_

The brunet felt himself blush even more, his face now feeling like it was on fire, and making him break eye contact with the girl once more. "...T-Tootie-Um... Tootie h-helped..."

"Uh-huh. I thought as much." The pink-eyed girl grinned triumphantly, yet continued to tangle her fingers in the boy's hair, realizing the contact seemed to put him more at ease. Alien as such an affectionate gesture was to her, she still made sure to be careful, and gently withdrew her fingers from his brown locks anytime they became too entangled.

"Um... Vicky?" Timmy fidgeted slightly, his head still tilted down and facing his lap. "Wh-What're you doing...?" He felt his babysitter's fingers freeze in place in his hair, almost as if she didn't realize _herself_ what she was doing, and his question had snapped her back to reality.

"...I'unno." Vicky shrugged, trying to play off her little touches as unintentional, though the red tint to her cheeks indicated otherwise. "...I could stop, if you want?"

"Uhm... N-No, it's fine. Feels kind of... Nice, actually." The brunet could feel the tension in his body slowly beginning to fade away as he sank backward into the couch cushion, and leaned ever so slightly into his babysitter. Whether or not this little sit-down of theirs was going well, he wasn't sure, but Vicky was certainly taking it better than he expected her to. He'd always imagined that she'd be completely surprised if he confessed that he liked her, as they didn't exactly have a great many things in common, and up until recently, she'd always treated him just like any other kid... Probably worse, actually. She saw him the most, so there were some days where he honestly thought she outright hated him, but...

But then there were other instances(rare as they might have been) where Vicky had gone to bat for him, protected him more fiercely than any of his friends ever had. Of course, he attributed _that_ to the red-head simply wanting to ensure his safety so she got paid, and maybe that _was_ all that it was: She looked out for him for her own benefit, and not for any reason more than that.

Yet it didn't change how he felt in the slightest. Vicky was gorgeous, determined, had a fiery personality that only seemed to draw him in more, and(unlike a certain dark-haired girl who bore the last name 'Tang') actually responded favorably to his little notes and letters! Case in point, she was cuddling him(sort of) right now!

"Oh... No... Reason to stop then, right?" Vicky asked as she started to gently run her fingers through Timmy's hair once more. "So... About Tootie helping you...?"

"She only _really_ helped me with the first week's worth of them; y'know, making sure I was spelling things right, good grammar... That sort of thing. Once I finished, she'd offer to check the note, make sure it looked good, sounded alright, that there weren't any mistakes..." The buck-toothed boy took pause, trying to remember the way Tootie had worded just _what_ his writing was. "...Tootie said it was... 'Putting thoughts and feelings to paper'..."

"Yeah, I suppose that's what writing is, essentially." Vicky shook her head, and looked down slightly to try and hide her grin. "Remind me to thank her for honing your romance skills..."

"So... The notes really _were_ good, then?" Timmy tilted his head back to look up at Vicky, his blue eyes wide and hopeful.

"I told you they _are_... You wanna hear it again or something?"

"Well..." He playfully rolled his eyes. "Maybe~"

"They're good." The older teen deadpanned, shooting Timmy a flat, unimpressed look. "They're _really_ good. Remember what I said yesterday, when you asked me about the notes? You made me- _me_ -feel all warm and fuzzy and... Ugh... _Fluttery_ when I read them, like how those dumb girls in romance novels and movies act." She laid her left cheek down on the back of the couch, partially using her own shoulder as a pillow. "And even though I didn't know it was _you_ writing those things until today... They're still really sweet, and I... I honestly don't know what to say now that I _do_ know... I mean... I'm _me_. Why do you like- How _can_ you possibly like _me_?"

"Er... Well..." Timmy looked away from the red-head evasively, bringing his right hand up to scratch at his nose with his index finger. "See, that-uh... Isn't. ReallysomethingIgavemuchthought."

"...Come again?" Vicky raised an eyebrow at her charge questioningly. "You haven't... Given it much thought...?"

"No..." The brunet admitted in a low, sheepish-sounding voice. "All those things I wrote for you in the notes, _that's_ all real." He looked up at the girl again; determination in his eyes, along with a fair amount of nervousness. "I _do_ think you're...Well, really nice-looking-"

"I thought you said I was beautiful in your notes?" A sly smirk graced the older teen's lips, even as she felt her cheeks heat up from a blush; though hers still didn't even come _close_ to Timmy's.

"I-I know I d-did!" Timmy exclaimed childishly, only to frown as he realized the fiery-haired girl was merely teasing him. _Again_. "Would you-! I'm _trying_ to explain _why_ I li-like you, and you're...! Gah!"

"Ehehe! I-I'm sorry-y-y! Heehee!" Vicky shook with mirth as she fell into a fit of giggles; partially because of how adorable she found Timmy to be when he was embarrassed yet trying to be serious, and partially because... She was strangely happy. She just couldn't put her finger on _why_... "Ah... Hehe... I'm actually not sorry. You're really frickin' cute when you're embarrassed!"

"Wha-What I was _trying_ to say was..." The boy began in a loud, defensive tone, but steadily dropped to a softer, more inside-friendly voice. "I don't _know_ _**why**_ I like you, I just... Sorta do. You said the notes made you feel warm and fuzzy and-"

"Happy." The normally oh-so abrasive red-head finished her Twerp's-Timmy's-sentence for him, her tone sweet and appreciative. "...And y'know what? Maybe you're right, Twerp Maybe this is one of those things that... Just doesn't _need_ a reason. You like me, and I..." She trailed off, her expression turning thoughtful and somewhat reticent.

"...Yeah...?" Timmy questioned hesitantly, his tone dripping with worry. _This_ was what he was afraid of: Vicky having the time to seriously _think_ about her feelings for him; of what came _after_ their rendezvous on the couch. The most glaring worry for him was the age difference, for even if she _was_ receptive to the idea of... Being his girlfriend? He supposed that's what the red-head would be; there was still the matter of the large gap between their ages. He was only eleven, still over a year and a half away from being a _teenager_! While Vicky was seventeen, more than halfway through her teenage years, and undoubtedly more experienced with dating than him. "K-Kind of... Taking a w-while to-um... Say something...?"

"Hm?" Vicky was snapped from her reverie by Timmy's voice, and looked back down at him, the thoughtful expression remaining on her face. "I was just thinking... I don't... Really _know_ you. To me, you've always been the Twerp... Y'know, until now." She untangled her fingers from the boy's hair, then slid her hand off his head and down its left side, allowing said hand to settle on Timmy's shoulder before pulling him closer, pressing him against her side in an(only mildly) awkward side-hug. "Suppose if we're gonna be spending a lot more time together, I'm gonna need to get to know you better."

"So... Does that make... You and I... Official?" Timmy queried up at Vicky, unintentionally shooting her such a hopeful look, it made her heart skip a beat. "Like my... Girlfriend?"

The red-haired teen consciously staved off the urge to wrap her arms around the brunet, despite how cute she found his anxiousness toward her to be. She didn't want to seem like she had _too_ much in common with Tootie, after all. "Like your girlfriend." She parroted back with a nod.

"...Awesome." Timmy muttered out quietly, an almost ear-to-ear smile on his face.

"So... Hmm..." Vicky looked toward the ceiling and brought her right hand up to her face, tapping her chin with her index finger. "I- I'm your first... Girlfriend, huh?"

"Well... Yeah. Trixie never really gave me the time of day, and me and Tootie are just friends, so...?"

"...Aren't you still kinda young to even _want_ a girlfriend?" The red-head felt around to her right for the TV remote, and, upon finding it, turned said TV on and began channel surfing. "Like, do you _know_ what people do when they're... _In_ a relationship?"

"Um... Yes? Of course I do! They-Um... Hang out... Together? Like... Play games and stuff? And... And do what we're doing now! Watch TV!" Timmy carefully snaked his right arm around Vicky's waist, looking up every few seconds to gauge her reaction, and eventually relaxing again once he felt it safe to assume she didn't mind. "And... Y-Y'know... They... Ahm... Hug and sometimes... Kiss?" He squeaked out as he finished, his face once more feeling like it was one fire.

" _No idea whatsoever... He_ probably _just wants to spend time with me, naïve as he is about... This sort of thing..."_ Vicky thought to herself as she glanced down at her charge, who _finally_ seemed to have calmed down. "I think we'll take things slow for now, wouldn't want to give my little Twerp a heart attack..." She gave Timmy's shoulder a reassuring caress with her left hand as she finished.

"O-Okay, slow. Slow seems good." The brunet nodded in agreement, swinging his legs up onto the couch to more comfortably lie against his babysitter's side.

"Yup. Slow." The red-head nodded in agreement, the smirk on her face going unnoticed by the boy next to her. _"For now..."_


End file.
